


it takes an ocean of trust

by LueurdeLaube



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baseball, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Cheerleaders, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Football | Soccer, Halloween, Intoxication, Jealousy, Love Confessions, Memory Alteration, Mindfuck, One Shot Collection, Psychological Horror, Roommates, Slice of Life, Suspense, Table Sex, Tie Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 08:56:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 50,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LueurdeLaube/pseuds/LueurdeLaube
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One shot collection. A place for prompt fills and drabbles. Rating ranges from G to E.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Memories

**Author's Note:**

> My first and only entry for SoMa week. I enjoyed writing this a lot I hope you enjoy reading it!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soul has never left for the DWMA. Instead he's living a peaceful and wealthy life with a loving family in New York. He should be happy and he actually is, but he can't shake this odd feeling off, the feeling that something is amiss.

"Hey Soul, is something the matter?" Wes asked, taking a seat beside him on the bench. It was a mild spring day, the sky was a little cloudy but the sun was shining. It was a very nice day.

Soul shook his head. "No, I'm fine."

Wes studied him worriedly, poking him on the forehead. "Are you sure? You've been kinda out of it since you turned 14. Did you eat too much cake?" His big brother chuckled and even Soul had to crack a grin.

"Wes," he said, scoffing mockingly, "There is no such thing as eating too much cake."

"True that, especially for someone who seems to have a bulldozer instead of a stomach like you."

"Shut up."

Soul felt his heart ease a little. He couldn't really explain it but he felt like something was...off. He didn't even know what or why. Something stirred within his mind, as if he was missing something, something important yet he couldn't put his finger on it.

He was blessed with a lot in his life, living a wealthy life in New York's Upper East Side. He had a very kind and loving family, his older brother being his favourite person in the world. His parents were a little strict and expected a lot from him, but they were also very supportive of him. Despite his different taste in music, they approved of it, even though they had been initially very hesitant about it. He was attending a great school, he had a promising future ahead of himself, so why did he feel like there was something wrong in all of this?

Soul sighed heavily, ignoring Wes' concerned eyes. He was perceptive like that, had always been. Whenever Soul felt like he was going to get crushed by his parents' pressure, Wes would smoothly step in and save the day.

"Let's go, Soul," Wes said, standing up with the grocery back in his left hand. "Dad said not to take so long. We should head home."

* * *

It was two weeks later that Soul found himself taking an aimless walk outside, even though the sun had already set. He had been feeling okay, only to be overcome with the weird sensation again.

 _Something_ _is_ _wrong_ _,_  it told him, but never what exactly was. He was frowning heavily when he suddenly walked into another person. Luckily, he caught the girl before she could fall. She was a small thing, blond hair in pigtails and clad in a school uniform. Maybe she attended one of the private schools nearby.

"Sorry," Soul mumbled, releasing her arm to straighten his back. Looking her in the eyes, he continued, "I wasn't looking where I was─ do I know you? You seem familiar. Have we met already?"

The girl frowned, her vibrant green eyes narrowing with suspicion as she looked him up and down, scrutinizing him. "I don't think so," she said, crossing her arms and taking a small step away from him.

"Um."

Soul had never felt this stupid in his entire life. She was probably thinking that he was trying to flirt with her! He shook his head, his lips moving in an attempt at human communication but he could only stammer dumbly.

"If you will excuse me now, I'll be leaving." She smiled faintly and brushed past him. He wanted to call after her but why should he? He didn't want to come across like a creep.

He watched her retreating back until she rounded a corner.

* * *

He dreamed of the girl with the pigtails and pretty green eyes that night. But in the dream they seemed already acquainted with each other, close even. He didn't feel like an active participant in the dream; he watched from afar as his dream-double grinned at the girl before he was engulfed in a blue light and turned into a big scythe. The girl caught it with startling ease. She looked so thin and fragile, but the more Soul watched her, the more he saw that she was anything but fragile.

She was strong and fast and cut the monster that was trying to attack her in a matter of seconds. She hadn't even broken a sweat! The scythe transformed again, steel and blade turning into flesh and bones, familiar white hair and tan skin. His dream-double took a hold of the red orb that the monster left behind and swallowed it whole.

Soul blinked, confused and curious. They were talking, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. Their words were a jumbled mess of syllables and sound.

His dream-double stepped very close to the girl and for a moment Soul thought he might kiss her, but he just ruffled her hair, chuckling lowly, saying something and this time Soul caught something familiar in his speech, something that rang a bell...somehow, even though he had no idea when he had heard it before.

"Maka."

* * *

Today, Soul took the long way home after class. He didn't feel like facing his family right now. He walked up 77th street, took a turn right to 5th Avenue, and spotted the Metropolitan Museum of Art on the left. He had been there once with his parents and once with his class, which had been the lamest school trip ever. He had sworn on that day to never step into the wretched building ever again.

He paid the recommended 25 dollars for his ticket, scrunching up his nose at the madness that had to be controlling him right now. He didn't pay much attention to what was around him until he reached the Islamic Art collection where he found her again. He gasped, his heart thudding fiercely.

Yes, it had to be her. Without thinking about it, he approached as she was looking at some calligraphy. He hesitated for a brief moment, pondering over what he actually was attempting to do. He wanted to talk to a girl he didn't know and only because he had almost knocked her over the other day? And then what? What would he talk about? She'd probably think he was some sort of stalker, even though he had found himself in the same place as her coincidentally. Or not.

Soul was not someone who'd interpret more meaning into weird things that could happen in life, but the dreams he had been having about her, about them, they seemed scarily real. Even though he was usually just a third onlooker of the dreams, he-

Oh, who was that? Soul's red eyes narrowed as another boy approached the girl. He was small, tan and had shocking blue hair. He unceremoniously slapped the girl on her back only to laugh at her glower loudly, drawing the attention of several people in their vicinity.

Soul felt something stir in his chest, an ugly feeling he refused to name. Shaking his head, he turned away only to run into another person again!

"Sorry," he said, looking up long enough to see that this time it was a tall, willowy woman with dark hair he had crashed into. He didn't wait for her to say something in return, just brushed past her, catching her confused shout of "Black Star!"

* * *

That night he dreamed of her again and this time he wasn't just some onlooker but he was there with her, participating in this fight. He didn't know why everything felt so vivid, his blood and flesh quivering at the overwhelming fear of their adversary. The person was very skinny, pale eyes that looked like they wouldn't look out of place on a dying man. They had pink hair, pallid skin and a large black sword that would let out screams that would make his steel shake in searing pain.

The girl, Maka, his partner, couldn't manage to land a hit on them, just making sure to avoid their attacks, scared and frightened not only for herself but mainly for him. Her emotions were crashing into him like an avalanche. He heard himself screaming, telling her to fucking guard, but she was stubborn and scared and tired. She missed a step and it felt only natural for him to protect her because that was his job; he felt no fear when he transformed into his human self, he felt oddly detached from all of this and only watched the large black sword descend towards him lethargically as if in slow motion but it was no less deadly.

There was a coppery taste in his mouth as his chest burned like a thousand matches, his knees giving out. His ears rang shrilly, Maka's devastated screams echoing in his mind as she caught him in her arms. The stupid girl wouldn't run, insisted to be with him, her hot tears like a brand on his cheeks.

The scenario changed and he was more or less fine, not dead but it looked like this might be about to change. Some large wolf-man charged at them and Soul transformed, however he was too heavy for Maka, he could actually feel how his steel was burning through her white gloves and her skin. This time they weren't the only ones there, the weird and loud blue-haired boy was there too together with the tall dark willowy woman. Tsubaki and Black*Star, yes.

Soul felt stupid for never associating these names with them. The rest of the dream was blurry, his blood was pounding more loudly than ever before in his veins, his head buzzing painfully as he struggled not to slip into this madness. The madness that told him to eat the pure blue orb that belonged to his partner. His lips parted, sharp fangs dripping with saliva, black blood thrumming in his bloodstream as his mouth enclosed over-

Soul awoke with a start, panting heavily, skin slick with cold sweat. It was still dark outside. He threw the covers away to ward off the suffocating feeling of dread. He unconsciously ran his hand over his chest, fully expecting to find a scar that stretched from shoulder to hip, only to be surprised when his palm met smooth skin instead.

* * *

What was going on?

Three days later, when he was eating lunch with Wes at a small diner, Soul finally told him about the disquieting dreams he had been having. Wes' eyes widened when he mentioned how he could turn into a scythe in his dreams, how Mak—this girl with pigtails wielded him as if he couldn't be heavier than cotton candy.

"And the weird thing is," Soul said, absentmindedly sipping at his orange juice, "the more I have them, the less they feel like dreams...but more like...memories."

Wes let out a laugh, his jaw tense, his brow twitching. "Oh Soul, I understand."

Soul perked up, blinking in surprise. "You do?"

His older brother nodded happily, ruffling Soul's hair much to his dismay. He was no little kid anymore, damn it!

"Yes," Wes continued, wiping his hands nervously with a napkin. "I know how it is to like a girl for the first time, but be careful Soul, not every girl likes to be approached with how you feel like you have known her a long time already."

"It's...it's not like that," Soul spluttered, heat crawling over his cheeks as his brother could only laugh and coo over how he was growing up.

Making a sour grimace, Soul sighed, thinking back at the first and only words he had exchanged with Maka. He was probably going crazy. He didn't even know the girl, he couldn't even be sure that her name was indeed Maka yet he constantly kept referring to her by that name in his head.

"The dreams are just really weird," he said eventually, bowing his head dejectedly.

"Um, maybe you should go see someone about it if they're bothering you so much."

Soul looked up, cocking his head to the side. "And who do you think should I see? A shrink?"

"Maybe it will help," he said with a shrug, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably, glancing down to avoid his gaze.

"No, thanks. I don't need a shrink. I am not insane and don't plan to be," Soul said, running his hand down his chest, feeling for the scar that wasn't there but was still hounding him every day.

* * *

The next day was a Sunday and Soul felt compelled to...go the library and this time he wasn't surprised when he saw the pigtailed girl there too. She was walking up the stairs just as he spotted her and Soul refused to believe that their encounters had been merely meetings of chance. His mouth moved on its own accord, his lips moving, his voice wrapping around two syllables.

"Maka!"

She halted, her shoulders tensing and turned around. He was swept with relief when her green eyes settled on him, wide with bemusement and wariness. Time was frozen in that moment, the rest of the world might as well not be existing right now for all Soul knew, only able to register everything that was this girl. The moment lasted only a second and the world shifted back into focus. His breath was loud and erratic, he was at a loss of what to do and he knew he couldn't lose her again this time.

As his brain tried to work around the proper words, the girl hesitantly walked down the steps where he was and came to a stop at the stair that was one above his, making her slightly taller than him. She studied him for a moment, green eyes sharp and intelligent, and as if in a trance she reached out with her ungloved hand, touching his cheek.

Her breath stuttered when she whispered, "Soul?"

* * *

They were sitting like some misplaced statues on the steps to the library silently. Soul wanted to say something but he found his tongue tied, but then he decided his tongue had been lately always tied, so he might as well give it a try.

"Sooo...I'm Soul," he said uneasily, cringing inside and wanting nothing more than to vanish into a pitch black hole.

"I know," she said, smiling slightly. "And I'm Maka, but you knew this too."

"Heh, yeah." He scratched the side of his head just to do something with his hands because he felt the embarrassing urge to grab one of hers as they would do so often in the dreams. But dreams were another matter altogether and he doubted she'd appreciate him being so touchy with her, although she had touched his cheek too, which many would interpret as a maybe intimate gesture. He could feel the blush coming over his cheeks. Damn it, where was his cool now?

"How...how did you know my name, Maka?" he asked, her name a familiar sound to his vocal cords and mouth.

"I, ah, I'm not sure actually. Does it sound crazy when I tell you that, uh, that I dreamed about you?"

His heart soared and it was as if all air left his body for a moment. "Really?" Red eyes wide, he turned slightly towards her, his right knee brushing against her left one. "I saw you in my dreams too, though it was weird. We fought monsters and stuff...and I could turn into a scythe and then you took my shaft and waved me around like-"

What the hell was he even saying. As if the 'normal' version of his dreams wasn't bizarre enough, he was talking like...like...

There was no way the blush on his cheeks wouldn't be permanently etched onto his skin now.

"Wait! You can turn into a scythe?!" She grabbed his shoulders making him look into her eyes again, either not caring how he had sounded or not understanding it.

"Uh, yeah, I mean I could in the dreams."

She gasped and her mouth curved into one of the most absurdly adorable smiles he had ever seen, leaving him completely gobsmacked. She shook him again and he let her.

"No, no, you don't understand. I...I let me introduce myself properly. I am Maka Albarn, student and weapon meister at the Death Weapon Meister Academy or DWMA for short. Have you ever heard of it? It's in Nevada! And...and there are meisters and weapons like you!"

He carefully pried her hands off of his shoulders, the relief he had been feeling the whole time slowly but surely making way for cautious trepidation. Maybe under the sweet and pretty exterior, this girl was insane and had broken out of a mental ward.

"What are you talking about?"

Her excitement faltered, but there was a fire in her eyes or more of a spark, determined and stubborn at once.

"The dreams you had Soul, I had the same but...but I didn't think too much of it. But the day you bumped into me on the streets, my dreams became clearer and the scythe I had been wielding all the time was you and maybe...maybe," she stammered, fidgeting on the place as her cheeks were tinted a lovely rose. He flinched when she suddenly made a grab for his hand, lacing their fingers together and it was as if something missing had been set in place. The weight of her hand was achingly familiar as was everything about her. There it was again, the mild sensation tickling the back of his soul, telling him to see the truth. "Maybe...we've dreamed of the future."

Her words startled him out of his thoughts, making him snort loudly. "That's bullshit, come on."

"Hey!" She smacked him over the head with the back of her hand and that too had a weird familiarity to it. "I'm serious, Soul. Things like that don't happen coincidentally. I..." she exhaled harshly through her nose, squeezing his hand more firmly. "I don't even know why I am here in New York. I told my father I wanted to see the museum and other landmarks and he said it was ok because he felt sorry for me that I still haven't found a weapon partner, but to be honest, the landmarks weren't the real reason to why I'm here."

"What is it then?"

"I don't know," she said, hissing with frustration. "I felt like I had to come here but I can't even tell you why because...urgh, I don't even know. I am not making much sense am I?" She laughed mirthlessly, letting her head drop onto her free hand with a defeated groan.

Soul watched her for a moment and surmised that yes, if she had told him this a few weeks ago, he'd refused to associate with her any further, but thinking back at the dreams he had had, of how this odd, intangible feeling in his chest made him go to places where he usually wouldn't go for apparently no reason at all, made her story sound like a perfectly rational tale. He reached out to a pigtail and pulled at it lightly. Catching her questioning eyes, he grinned reassuringly and patted her on the head.

"It's okay, I understand."

"You do?" She looked unconvinced but happy at the same. Soul stood up, taking her with him, their hands never separating. This felt right, somehow.

"Yeah. Come on, let's do something. What do you want to see next of New York City?"

"I don't know, just take me somewhere cool." She smiled brightly.

"Cool, huh?"

* * *

The next few day he spent more and more with Maka. He took her to the movies, showed her the best places of the Upper East Side and even the boring places like the museums and libraries and galleries. He made an effort not to look too bored but she could see right through him. They tended to hold hands a lot though it felt natural and he never questioned it.

She was an odd girl. She was very kind and bubbly, her speech quite polite and proper. She didn't like to curse and she would make sure to reprimand him if he did. He found out that she was fun to tease, but had an explosive temper that nearly caused him a concussion. He had called her Tiny Tits, partly as a joke and partly to taunt her, and she responded by hitting his skull with a thick tome. She called this a Maka Chop. He had told himself he would never tease her again, but he didn't abide by that. He teased her and she hit him over the head with a book if it annoyed her enough.

She was also extraordinarily smart. Sometimes it was difficult to keep up with what she was saying; she was using a lot of big words, which he doubted most people older than her even knew, and ennunciated her words perfectly. She would tell him about Death City and the DWMA in Nevada, show him pamphlets and pictures, insisting it was a very beautiful place.

He snorted, nearly spitting his coke out. "Are you serious?" he asked, rasing his eyebrow questioningly. He took the picture she had just shoved into his face and regarded it for a moment before he looked her in the eyes with a smirk. "This looks like straight out of a Tim Burton movie. Don't tell me that's how this Death City actually looks like. Did you just google pictures and print them so you could show me?"

She crossed her arms over her slight chest, pouting childishly. "No, I did not. And how do you know Timothy Burton?"

"Uh..."

"He was the first architect of Death City!"

"Uh..."

It was only when they came across Wes when he was with his friend (or girlfriend?) that their...dating bliss ( were they even dating?) came to a halt.

Wes didn't hesitate to tease him, never missing the opportunity to call Maka his girlfriend even though she insisted that it wasn't the case. Soul had to admit that his brother's conclusion wasn't that unreasonable, considering he saw them with their hands locked like that.

"So how long have you known each other already? Where did you meet? Do you play an instrument Maka? Soul is very good with the piano."

Soul glowered at Wes murderously. What the hell was he doing?

"No, I don't play an instrument. I am not that good with music actually," she said, smiling mildly. Soul could feel the discomfort oozing out of her in waves. She turned to him then, more at ease when she spoke. "I didn't know you could play the piano, Soul? Will you play for me one day?"

He looked away with flushed cheeks. The collar of his shirt felt too tight around his neck. He loosened his tie a little. "Uh, maybe."

"You're not good with music you say?" Wes cut in. His voice sounded amiable enough but Soul knew his brother was up to something. He would have never thought that Wes would make such a big deal out of him meeting a girl. And technically they weren't even officially a couple. Soul had no idea what they were. He had only known her for a few weeks after all.

"No, I'm not," she said demurely. "My mama tried to make me take up the clarinet but I had no talent for it and she gave up." She sighed.

Wes' eyes narrowed in contemplation, his head tilted to the side as he took a small sip from his coffee. "You see the Evans family is a very reputable family in the music industry. It's unheard of that a family member doesn't know how to play an instrument."

"Oh, I understand."

"Wes, just shut up..."

His older brother however ignored him pointedly, his maroon eyes focused entirely on Maka while his weird friend had remained deathly quiet the whole time. Soul had never seen her before. She had curtly introduced herself as Minnie but that was it, no other words had come out of her mouth. She was pretty, he guessed, but her eyes were dark like her hair and her skin was pale.

"This includes our friends and partners as well, Maka," Wes continued. "If you know what I mean."

"I...um, I don't know what to say," Maka said, looking at Soul, asking him for help.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Wes?" Soul asked coldly, clenching his fists tightly. Maka's small hand on top of his knuckles was barely a comfort. "What kind of game are you playing? Asking her these dumb questions and making her feel uncomfortable. This isn't like you."

Something like regret flashed in his brother's eyes before it was gone again to leave that eerie cold expression back. It reminded Soul of their father and that alone was enough to make him shudder.

"What I'm trying to say, dear brother, is that she is unfit to associate with you. I understand she's very pretty but she is musically inept as she told us. Do you think it would be healthy to have a girlfriend like that?"

"Excuse me?" Maka cut in, irritation making the pitch of her voice rise. "Don't talk about me as if I'm not here. It's rude."

Wes merely scoffed, raising his chin haughtily. Soul's blood was boiling and he had to cling onto the last shreds of his self-control not to jump over the table to give his brother a good slap on the head.

"God, Wes, We're only 14. What are you even trying to say and we aren't even-"

"I think I'll leave now."

"But Maka!"

"Goodbye Miss Albarn." Wes lifted his cup to his lips, not even gracing Maka with a glance. She was bristling, Soul could feel her anger permeating the tense air and he had no idea what to do. She attempted a smile when her eyes locked with his red ones, but it was strained and terribly forced and Soul could feel his heart dropping when she said, "Goodbye Soul."

* * *

He didn't see Maka after that again and he wanted to bang his head against the nearest available hard surface at his lack of forethought. They hadn't exchanged their numbers, but they had never needed to call each other. They'd meet each other regardless as if some higher power pulled the strings of their bodies together.

His dreams became worse and even in those Maka appeared less and less. Instead he dreamed of a small red demon that taunted him. Soul usually felt just annoyed at its presence until the demon grew larger and larger, towering over him and casting its viscous shadow of black blood over his small frame. Soul would scream and cry, call for help to no avail as his chest would feel like it was about to burst open. The black blood would engulf him, starting with his feet only to climb up higher and higher and there was nothing he could do to defend himself. It would wrap around his neck, choking him, seep into his nostrils and open mouth, enclose over him entirely until his pathetic gargling stopped.

Then he would wake up, drenched in sweat, his blanket knocked down and his hair plastered to his forehead. His hand would, as it did so often, run over his chest, retrace the path of the imaginary scar. Sometimes Soul was sure the scar was there because sometimes it hurt and burned, driving him crazy because there wasn't anything that could inflict such pain upon him.

Soul missed Maka, and he hadn't had a real conversation with Wes after Maka left that day. He growled to himself, gritting his teeth. Wes was never one to bully people like that. Wes usually didn't care about anybody's background as long as they were nice and decent people, so what had he seen in Maka to make him behave like that?

He needed to talk to Wes, but it was three in the morning and his brother would murder him if he woke him now. He sighed, exhaustion catching up with him and making his eyelids droop. He would talk to Wes tomorrow.

* * *

Wes and he had been tasked by their mother with grocery shopping again and Soul thought this was the perfect opportunity to talk about the shitstorm from the other day. The silence was awkward between them and Wes didn't even attempt to indulge in idle smalltalk as he'd usually do to ease the tension. Feeling his fury rise, Soul decided to put an end to this stupidity himself.

"Look, Wes, do you mind telling what this was all about with Maka?"

"Exactly what I said it was. She is unfit to be with you."

Soul groaned lowly, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. "You and I both know that's bullshit!"

"Shut up, Soul. Let's get the groceries and be done with it. I've heard there is a dangerous mugger running around here. He has already killed two people."

Rolling his eyes, Soul put a hand on Wes' shoulder, noticing how they were almost the same height now.

"Don't try to change the subject." He held his brother's gaze resolutely, refusing to back off even though he had never seen Wes looking at him with such anger. For a moment, Soul was certain Wes might burst and yell and punch at him, but he only let out a deflated sigh, his shoulders dropping.

"I don't want her near you because-" Wes began, clenching his fists, "because she's going to take you to Nevada."

"Huh? Don't be stupid. I don't want to go to Nevada."

Wes shot him a bitter smile. "Really? Because the last time you were very eager to leave."

Soul took his hand off his brother's shoulder, staring at him as if he had grown a second head out of his back. "What are you saying? Nothing you say is making sense. When did I leave the last time?! Wes, what the-"

Before Soul had the chance to finish his tirade, he was knocked off his feet violently. He scraped his arm on the sidewalk and he could hear the screams and shouts of the people around him.

"Soul!"

He barely had any time to react; Wes pulled him up by his elbow, making Soul flinch at the pain. Sharp silvery claws missed him by a hair's breadth and his breath caught in his throat at...the monster that was before him, a monster that was exclusive to his freaky dreams. It was twice as tall as him, its mouth carved into a large twisted smile, its canines sharp and dripping with spit.

Soul shuddered and he could feel Wes' hold on his arm tightening. His heart was beating so hastily that he feared it might just burst out of his chest, if the monster didn't rip it out of him that is. There was a miniscule moment of hesitation before they both ran into the other direction. Soul's throat was tight with dread; he had never run this fast in his life. He let out a muffled cry when Wes took him by the collar of his shirt and pushed him to the ground, the wind of the monster's claws nearly brushing his neck.

Fuck! He didn't want to die. His eyes burned with tears, his blood soaring heavily as he yelped and crawled back until his path was blocked by a wall. He bit his lip to try to hold back an undignified whimper. His head hurt, a warm liquid trickling down the side of his face. This was it? He...how, he was just 14, he couldn't die yet. Not like this. But the monster didn't care how young he was, it nonchalantly raised its claws over its head and Soul closed his eyes, muttering his final prayers, hoping Wes would make it out alive.

"Don't you dare to touch my brother!"

The pain he had been waiting for never came. Soul wrenched his eyes open, wincing at the monster's high shriek. Oh God, what was Wes doing?! His brother was fighting the thing with a metal pole, hitting it over the head futilely. Soul struggled to his feet, his knees weak and shaky, his muscles tense with fear. His eyes widened when the monster...the pre-kishin hit the pole out of Wes' hands.

"Wes, watch out!"

"Damn it, Soul, what are you doing here. Run!"

He choked back a sob as the monster turned away from Wes, its grisly visage contorting into a grotesque grin at the sight of Soul. Maybe running would have been the better option after all. Fully awaiting a final blow to end it all, Soul was shocked again when the monster was kicked down. Not by Wes this time but...

"Maka?"

Indeed, there she was. Standing there tall and proud, in her usual pigtails and her uniform. Her eyes were narrowed into a fierce glare and even though she was small and thin, Soul didn't doubt her strength in this moment.

"Are you both okay?" she asked, eying him worriedly. He could only nod dumbly and threw a glance at Wes, sighing with relief when he saw his brother unharmed. As the pre-kishin was still trying to get back onto its feet, Maka turned to Soul, eyes burning with determination. "Soul," she said resolutely, "I need you to transform."

He hesitated for the briefest of a second to catch his breath but then everything that happened came naturally. Blue light engulfed him and it was a quick transformation from boy to scythe. Maka's hands were comfortingly warm and her grasp was firm and strong. She let out a powerful cry, charged at the pre-kishin, never missing a beat as she dodged its clumsily aimed claws and rammed the tip of his blade into its neck.

The pre-kishin let one final ghastly shriek before Maka severed its head from its neck, her soul thrumming with satisfaction and pride. In its wake the monster left behind a vibrantly glowing red orb.

* * *

Soul didn't let go of Maka even when her loud annoying friend with the blue hair tried to push him off.

"Fuck off," Soul snarled and together with Maka's scolding and Tsubaki's peacemaking, they made it to the Evans mansion. The first one to hug him was his father, quickly followed by his mother, who looked especially distressed at his head wound, insisting that they go to the hospital. In the end, it was Tsubaki who bandaged his head after he assured his parents that he was perfectly fine if somewhat shaken. It was the most glorious understatement of the century.

The excitement died down towards the evening. His parents courteously insisted that Maka, Tsubaki and Black*Star stay the night over. It was the least they could do for their help. Soul and Maka spent the rest of the day in his room, chatting idly. He kind of enjoyed how she fussed over him all worried and cute, running her hand carefully through his hair. It relaxed him and it comforted his soul.

"Soul, Maka?" Wes said, knocking on his door hollowly. "Can I come in?"

Soul cracked an eye open lazily, not bothering to get his head up from Maka's soft lap. "Yeah, come in. What is it, Wes?" He did not miss how Maka refused to look at his brother.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Wes shut the door behind him and leaned against it. "I think I have an apology to make. Maka, I'm sorry for treating you so rudely, it was uncalled for."

She perked up, her eyes startled as she searched for the right words. "Um, it's okay, thanks."

Wes smiled faintly and then turned to him saying, "And Soul, I have to apologize especially to you."

"Huh?" Now this made him raise his head from Maka's lap. "Why?"

He sighed again and Soul had never seen his brother look so uncertain in his life. He looked defeated and exhausted and he likely needed a good night's rest. Soul felt guilt welling inside his chest. He hadn't bothered to make completely sure that Wes was unharmed. He was a horrible brother.

"Because everything's my fault," Wes said somberly. "And before you say anything let me finish. I...don't know how to explain but...I...I made a deal with a witch." Maka gasped loudly, her hands clutching the pleats of her skirt.

"A deal with a witch is dangerous! What have you promised to do for her in return?"

Wes shook his head. "Nothing. I assume using her magic was enough for her."

Soul didn't know what was going on but after today he knew better than to doubt magical things going on in life. But what was Wes' business with all of this?

"Anyway, what I wanted was to have my little brother back. I didn't actually expect her to turn back time to months before you left for the DWMA! I tried to make the best out of it and treated you so you would never consider leaving, even though I hadn't been aware of what had happened until I started to remember somehow. The witch, Minerva, said that I possibly retained my memories of the time you weren't here because of the deal we made." He let out a hiss between his teeth, running his hand through his tousled hair that was usually impeccably combed. His eyes were dull with sadness and Soul had a hard time of grasping what was going on. Was his brother telling him he had somehow made the world travel back in time? "Apparently you didn't lose your memories either," he continued, grinning weakly.

A dumbfounded silence befell them and it was Maka who broke it.

"We need to inform Lord Death of this immediately."

* * *

It was later that night after the second wave of excitement died down that Soul took Maka to the music room. The grand piano stood in the middle imposingly. He felt kind of nervous, his throat tight and dry as he led her by her hand to stand a little behind him. He seated himself on the bench stiffly, his back tense and his fingers twitchy with anxiousness. He kept his head high as he let his fingers descend onto the keys.

It was a dark and somber song, the first part of the melody clashed with the second more lighthearted path, the tones higher and softer. He was thinking of her, of her laughter, of her eyes; he was thinking of his family, of his stern yet kind mother, of his bumbling but intelligent father, of his protective and strong brother; he was thinking of his friends, the dulled memories clearing little by little. His soul was soaring, his wavelength unconsciously seeking out Maka's, for her to respond in kind.

He finished the song with a mighty clash of keys. He was panting, feeling more exhausted than ever, sweat dampening his forehead. She hugged him from behind, her hair tickling the skin of his neck, her lips curled into a smile against his ear.

"I remember it was your music that pulled me to you."

And everything went black.

* * *

He awoke with a start, red eyes wide with shock. He patted the mattress beneath him, realizing this bed was smaller than the one in the Evans mansion and not as soft. His hand went to his chest and there it was! The jagged scar he had gotten in a suicidal act of heroism to save his meister's life.

Speaking of which, where was Maka?

He dashed out of his room with frantic steps only to almost crash into Maka. He caught himself in the last second.

"Soul!" She smiled and threw her slight weight against him, her hands encircling his neck in a hug. She pressed her head against his collarbones and after a moment of surprise, he wrapped his arms around her waist, smiling into her soft hair. "You know I'd tell you how much of a weird dream I've had but I doubt it was a dream."

"You mean the one where I never came to the DWMA, stayed in New York until I bumped into you things got quickly weird with Wes having made a deal with a witch that involved some sort of time travel apparently?"

She nodded.

"Nope, definitely not a dream."

"I can assure both of you that it wasn't a dream." They scrambled out of their embrace the moment Lord Death's voice resounded from the bathroom. They greeted him with a slight bow, but Soul didn't plan on beating around the bush any longer.

Looking into the small foggy mirror of their bathroom, he began, "What happened, Lord Death?"

Their superior tilted his head to the side, raising a thick white finger. "Exactly what your brother told you. He made a deal with the witch Minerva. Or as you might have come to know her: Minnie."

"Oh, she was the witch?! That actually explains why she was suddenly around my brother."

Lord Death nodded. "Indeed. Doctor Stein and Spirit have found her and brought her to me. She explained me how she came to wield such tremendous power."

"What did she tell you?" Maka asked.

"That she can't use her magic on her own. She needs a...host. The deal she made with your brother consisted of his wish that you had never left for the DWMA. And the stronger a person's wish, the more potent are her powers. Your brother must truly love you when she was able to contort space and time with that. Everything went back to normal the moment he broke the deal with the witch and seeing that you belong to the DWMA as much as you belong with your family, Soul." Lord Death chuckled to himself. " The time was reset as were our memories-"

"But...Soul and I...we still remembered each other somehow. The things we saw, I believed them to be some sort of premonitions, but they were our memories of our time together! How can that be possible when we had technically never met?" Maka muttered, biting her lip in contemplation.

"That was indeed quite peculiar and you are right that remembering each other should have been impossible, and I believe if it weren't for your memories we could have never been able to restore the timeline into its proper proceedings. My theory is that...despite everything, your souls remembered each other."

"What?" They asked flatly in unison, looking at each other dumbly.

"Your souls had been calling out for each other because they likely missed the other's wavelength and presence. That's why you went to New York, Maka and that's why you could transform effortlessly, Soul."

"Oh, I see," Maka said, clutching her hand over her heart, her cheeks tinted a rosy colour.

"Anyway! I'm glad everything's resolved now. I will be going now. You two have fun!" the death-god waved at them cheerily and vanished with a flash.

They stood there for a moment to take this all in, recollecting their thoughts before they exited the bathroom and turned to look at the other with equally wondrous expressions.

"Our souls...remembered each other?" Soul said slowly, scratching his head.

"They...called out for each other?" Maka whispered, still blushing.

"Man, that sounds like straight out of these dumb supernatural romance novels you sometimes read, Bookworm."

"They are not dumb, Soul!"

"Yes, they are. Girl meets boy, they fall in love and make weird vampire babies or some shit."

"Hey, they're not all like that! Most are really good. And what do you know? As if you read anything at all!"

"Tsk, I don't need to read that much."

"Oh, shut up, you sound stupider and stupider with each day."

"Meh, whatever you say, nerd."

He snickered when she hit his shoulder and pouted in that adorable way of hers. They seated themselves on the couch and he reflexively grabbed the remote control and turned the TV on. They leaned against each other, her head on his shoulder, while he rested his cheek on the top of her head.

He had missed this, yes. As wonderful as it was to be with his family under different circumstances again, he wouldn't ever want to trade the life he had with Maka. The implications of what Lord Death told them swirled within his mind. Their souls had been calling out for the other, they missed each other, they remembered each other!

"Hey Maka?"

"Hmm?"

"Would it be okay if we kissed each other? Seems fitting now, don't you think?"

She smiled and his heart swelled with warmth as he pulled her towards him.


	2. A Monument to Your Failure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If you want Soul back, I need you to bring me the heart of the Evenfall, Maka Albarn." ─ There was nothing holding Maka back if the safety of Soul was concerned.

"I killed them. All of them─ just as you told me. Now release him!"

Her voice sounded stronger than her body was, muscles and limbs burning excruciatingly as she clutched the Heart in her fist tightly. Her view blurred and for a moment she thought she was going to faint. The fine hairs on the back of her neck prickled, her skin shuddering with goose bumps, her bones freezing as her lids drooped and she stumbled. She caught herself at the last moment, knees trembling, her throat constricting.

The black fog around her encircled her with its cutting cold, forcing a gasp from between her lips.

"Damn it, I know you're here! Come out! We had an agreement!"

She blinked, eyes stinging, betraying her fear and weakness. She felt the temperature drop around her, her breath visible in wispy, smoky tendrils of air around her. Unconsciously, she rubbed a clammy hand over her arm. She flinched, looking at her hand.

She didn't remember getting hurt like this. Had the Evenfall managed to land a hit on her after all? There was something warm on the side of her head; her fingers grazed the spot, and she startled. She didn't remember anyone hitting her head either, she didn't remember the blood, she didn't remember the pain.

She gulped and gritted her teeth.

"Damn it. LET SOUL GO!" Each word burned her lungs as she felt the air fleeing her.

"Maka, Maka, Maka."

The blood in her veins froze. "Give him back,"she whispered, looking around frantically and then added with a steadier voice, "I held up my end of the bargain. What about you? Fucking Liar!"

"Maka."

"Stop playing around, I want Soul back!"

Damn it, something was wrong. She knew, she recalled this with clarity that she had had the upper hand in the fight. She had killed that bastard quickly, had punched its ghastly visage, had rammed the blunt end of her knife into its bony neck, had made sure to burn the body until the black, polished stone that was called its heart remained. It was a slight weight, barely there, so insignificant─ but it was the promise, the reassurance of getting Soul back out of  _his_  clutches. Then why, even though she had bested that beast, did she feel like she had been beaten? Why did it feel like her skin had been peeled off by long sharp claws; why did it feel like someone was still holding her throat, choking her, watching her dazed eyes as her strength left her?

"But I'm here, Maka. I'm always here with you."

She closed her eyes, not daring to open them. She knew, knew this even more certainly than her victory over the Evenfall, that if she laid her eyes upon him, she'd lose what little rationality she had.

"No," she rasped weakly, never once loosening her grasp on the Heart, despite the insistent tug on her wrist. He wouldn't be able to get it from her if she didn't let go of it willingly. "You're not Soul. You can't fool me. I want Soul back, the real one."

He chuckled and it made her heart clench tightly─ stopping all blood flow to her body─ she knew because it sounded like Soul, it sounded like him so much, but she had fallen for his tricks too often. She knew better.

"Maka, look at me."

She had come too far to lose right now, her hands drenched in the blood of many. She remembered big, round eyes─ maybe they had been blue or maybe they had more of a tint of green in them. She remembered burning the small body, remembered taking the big, round blue-green eyes too because she needed them.

She recalled thin arms trying to hit her as her sleeves were soaked with grey water, recalled the body with the thin arms getting weaker, the resistance lessening, its pathetic flailing ceasing in one moment. She recalled that she took something from it too. Yes, there was something. A vial─ she had filled the small, crystalline vial with something.

And then, there had been the Lady in White. She remembered how her white gowns hadn't looked so white anymore once Maka had rammed her trusty knife into the lady's abdomen, had remained with the lady until she had bled out, had watched her lips turn blue, watched her mouth parting in a hopeless cry for help. Maka wasn't sure what she had needed from the lady, just knew she that she had needed it and fought the strong lady desperately because it was all for Soul.

"If you want Soul back, I need you to bring me the heart of the Evenfall, Maka Albarn."

"Huh?" She instinctively opened her fist, the pitch black sphere she knew that had been there gone. "What have you done with it?!"

"Done with what? We have a bargain, Maka. You want your Soul back, I want mine."

She took a deep, shuddery breath. "You're never going to give him back, are you?"

"I keep my promises. What about you? You promised me the Heart and you don't have it."

She felt the impenetrable, dark fog she had come to associate with this place envelope her; she felt neither cold nor warm, just pleasingly numb and dazed.

"Bring me the heart of the Evenfall and I'll give you your precious Soul back. Do we have a deal?"

Soul, yes. Soul. She would never leave him here in this rotten place. He was counting on her. She...she needed the heart of the Evenfall, needed to kill it like she had strangled the child with blue-green eyes, like she had drowned man with thin arms, like she had let the lady in white bleed to death.

For Soul. She'd do it because there was nothing holding her back if the safety of Soul was concerned.

She opened her eyes, hazy green meeting absolutely nothing but viscous blackness. She nodded once. Twice.

"I'll do it."

She could hear the smile in his voice. "I'm glad to hear that. I will see you again when you bring me the Heart. You must kill the Evenfall with a blunt knife, do you understand?"

She nodded again. Slowly, the suffocating mist around her thinned and she felt like she was breathing again for the first time. She resolutely looked at the red moon in the sky, the dim light reflecting in her eyes as she willed herself to move because she knew staying in one place for too long would be the end of her sanity. She couldn't afford that. She had to get Soul back.

Her steps were heavy yet certain when she made her way to retrieve the last piece she needed.

* * *

Footsteps echoed in the hollow street. It was cold and misty but that was nothing new, the darkness permeating all sources of light wasn't anything new either.

"I have what you want," he said, red eyes determined, voice steady. "Let Maka go now."


	3. Tie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for SoMa NSFW week on Tumblr for Day One: Tie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains heavy smut!

Their story was an odd one. The omission of details made it another boy meets girl tale. He had just transferred to the University of Death City from some fancy not-really Ivy League university from the East Coast.

Though she wouldn't have known this considering that she had first seen him when she had gone into an  _adult_  store. Much to Maka's embarrassment, that action had not resulted because of a dare her friends had set her up for, or because she had been drunk, nor was it because she had not known that particular store to be an adult store. Nope, she had gone into that store because she had wanted to, because she wasn't getting laid, because she didn't know if a relationship was something for her, because her fingers weren't enough, because she was simply frustrated and needed something...more filling.

Maka had totally been expecting some balding, middle-aged, sleazy man as a clerk. She was surprised when she instead saw that it was handsome, twenty-something man, who couldn't have looked more bored out of his mind. She took note of his white hair and striking red eyes and how nicely he was dressed, in a dress shirt with a silky tie, before she did what she thought was best.

She ignored him. She'd just grab the closest vibrator or dildo or whatever, pay for it and be done with it, and pretend like this few minutes had never happened in the simple life of Maka Albarn. However, it wouldn't be a day in the simple life of Maka Albarn if things didn't get complicated. Case in point, the walls were lined up with thousands of sex toys in different colours, shapes and sizes. She eyed the...more realistic ones first, scrunching up her nose at the gaudier models of neon pink/yellow/green/purple with extra bumps and modifications for a 'better experience'.

Even though she had told herself that she'd take this like the adult she was, her cheeks were a blazing red and she couldn't keep her eyes up for longer than a few seconds. She was counting on the clerk being so disinterested in the world that he'd not notice her standing like a moron between two aisles of anal vibrators and some other stuff she had no desire to identify. They looked pretty menacing and she couldn't fathom how anyone could put stuff like that inside their bodies and...and...

"Hey, can I help you?"

She jumped, letting out a high-pitched squeak as she automatically made a grab for the thick monograph in her backpack only to freeze when she came face to face with the red-eyed clerk. Maybe, if her body temperature continued to rise like this, she might even be able to melt her brains out because she couldn't recall any other event in her life that was this mortifying. She stammered out a "No!" in response, only to retract that and yelp out a "Yes, please!" before she slapped a hand against her red cheek.

He raised a flaxen eyebrow, not appearing to be that disturbed by her weird behavior, hands stuffed casually in his pockets.

"Is there something you're looking for in particular?" he continued, unperturbed. Eying her questioningly for a few seconds that felt like entire lifetimes in hell, he let out a barely audible sigh and took one of the flesh-coloured vibrators from the wall. She bit back a whimper. "Most customers like the classic models," he said, almost juggling the thing in his hands. "It's of average girth and not too big, but you're kinda tiny so you might maybe try something smaller. Maybe this─" he took another one, this time smaller, and made a move to hand it to her, but she just jerked away.

He sighed again, louder this time. She felt irritation stir in her stomach and she knew she had two options here: a, she could make a dash for the door and never mention this to anyone ever, or b, she could just─"

"Okay, I'll take that one, please," she bit out, gritting her teeth. He looked surprised for a moment before he sluggishly made his way to the cash register to scan the item. Maka was sure that he was being deliberately slow, just to piss her off more.

She nearly threw the money on the counter, wishing nothing more to leave this store. She could smell freedom, already dreaming about fresh air and a lack of dildos around her.

"Not enough," he said, his gaze suddenly becoming sharper, boredom gone completely.

She flinched, blinking. "W-what?"

He gestured towards the money on the counter with a casual tilt of his hand. "It's not enough. I need ten dollars more."

Maka clenched her fists, ready to grab the stupid vibrator and just make a dash out of the store. But she was no criminal and the last thing she wanted was to get known for stealing sex toys! Willing herself to remain calm, she said, her voice quiet but firm, "How about I go to the bank and─"

"We're closing in ten minutes. I don't think you can make it in time."

"But...wait, how about I pay with my credit card─"

"We don't accept credit cards here."

"What kind of stupid store doesn't accept credit cards!?"

"This store. Look if you can't pay in cash, you might as well leave now."

She snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. She had come too far to give up now. She knew she wouldn't be able to come here again the next day, her sense of propriety and mortification would kill her. She opened her mouth, not really knowing how to convince this stubborn idiot, but he beat her to it, his voice a low rumble coming from his chest, making her limbs shudder.

"Though I'm sure we can arrange something." He smiled, lips stretching wide. He looked practically sinful, his eyes were dark and warm, and heat sparked in her belly.

"Oh?" She raised her eyebrows, placing her hands on her hips determinedly. "Can we now?"

He nodded, shoving the money aside, not sparing it another glance. "You can pay...in a different way."

She blinked, staring at his stupid grin dumbfoundedly. He held her wide gaze evenly, even if his smirk faltered the slightest bit. And she lost it. Her laughter was loud and high-pitched as she held her sides, her shoulders shaking.

"Oh God!" she exclaimed, slapping a hand against her forehead. Her eyes were welling up with tears, her other hand haphazardly trying to wipe them away. "Soul, this is awful!"

Soul groaned, hitting his head against the counter. "And I was doing so well. What the hell, Maka?!"

She just continued to laugh, not caring if he felt humiliated; actually it made her feel the evilest sort of delight at seeing him blush like this. It had been his stupid idea and now he was paying for it.

"Doing well?" she snorted, giggling deviously. "Please, that line was so cheesy. I hope you weren't watching porn again."

"No! I don't need to watch porn," he muttered and tried for a leer. He looked ridiculous.

Wiping the rest of her tears off, she let out a shaky sigh, lips still curled into a smirk. "Seriously, roleplaying in a sex shop? I don't know how you convinced me to take part in this."

"Maybe because a you're a dirty little perv─"

"Maka Chop!"

"Ouch, damn it, woman! I didn't force you to come here. You agreed to this, so don't act like you're some saint."

"Okay yes, you're right. I'm sorry," she mumbled, patting his head in apology. She smiled. "I have to admit though when you were...giving me advice about what vibrator would be the best for me, you actually sounded like you knew what you were talking about." She snickered into her palm, ignoring his glower. He could be so cute when he was angry. Like a puppy. A silly puppy who had the weirdest of ideas.

His friend Blair had asked him to watch over her store for two hours as she had an appointment with someone that couldn't be rescheduled, and since Soul apparently owed Blair a favor, he had agreed. Maka had had no idea that the store in question was a sex shop! She had protested when Soul told her, hating the idea of her boyfriend being in such a place, but he somehow managed to convince her not to only let him watch the store, but also to...indulge in a little bit of roleplay with her as the one who had to offer other means to...pay.

"Since we're already in such a porny place we might as well go all out and work with the most cliché line in porn ever," he had said and had added that business was, according to Blair, slow during this time of the day anyway. Maka didn't know what had been wrong with her at that time. Only that she had agreed to this madness. Soul could be such an idiot, but he was also the most loyal and the sweetest man she had ever met. Having first met him in high school when she had initially judged him as a dangerous delinquent and a slacker with no future, their romance had taken its time to blossom. She had trust issues and he had different issues with his family, and they had both found out that entrusting each other with it had managed to help them a lot in several ways.

She grabbed his tie with a fond smile, smoothed her fingers over it, not liking how he had managed to get it crinkled. He watched her aptly, eyes following her every move. She loved it when he wore formal wear, or at least she loved it when he'd go for a tie. Soul had no shame in exploiting her desire for formal wear, even though he felt stifled and uncomfortable in it; he found out that it didn't matter as he'd get naked in a matter of seconds anyway once she set her eyes on him.

"You were saying something about paying in a different way," she said, her smile taking on a sultry edge.

"I thought it was such a cheesy line," he retorted, ever the snarky jerk.

She yanked him forward by his tie, scowling lightly. "Do you want to get laid or not?"

His demeanour changed in a millisecond; from lazy and unmotivated to eager and horny. He didn't even bother to round the counter, he simply jumped over it, taking her by her hand to the staff room. It was barely furnished, a table in the middle, three chairs and a ratty couch against the right wall.

Maka clutched his tie and pulled him down to her level, pressing their lips together. Pushing him against the wall and closing the door with one hand, she slanted her mouth more comfortably against his, feeling his smile against her lips. Even though she was the bookish, uptight nerd, she liked to take charge in the bedroom, a fact that delighted Soul to no end. He moaned hungrily when she ran her blunt nails under his shirt, relishing in the way his abs contracted and how his breathing became more heavy and needy. She had no patience for a covered up Soul, so she unceremoniously yanked at his shirt, fingers fumbling clumsily with the small buttons. She had once made the mistake of ripping one of his shirt apart in her horniness and he hadn't taken to that lightly, so even if her frustration was reaching an all time high she kindly undid all the buttons first before she pushed the shirt over his shoulders.

Her heart was loud in her chest cavity, thudding with a fierceness that was only reserved for moments like these; and maybe the added excitement of being able to be caught by someone, be it Blair or a customer who was particularly insisted on getting their share of sex toys, just made it all the more riveting. She gasped when he bit into her neck, sharp teeth working on muscle and skin as his devious pianist fingers got rid off her shirt and quickly unzipped her jeans soon after.

They pulled apart with a shared groan, his erection rubbing against her stomach as her eyes clouded over. She squeaked when she grabbed her hips, hoisting her up. He set her on one of the chairs, the only one that had armrests and looked to be remotely comfortable. He pulled her jeans off with no preamble, her shoes and socks following next before her discarded her underwear.

Her nipples hardened the moment the cool air in the room hit her small breasts. She was panting harshly, her chest heaving and his eyes were warm and lively and giddy, and he took a moment to watch her. She squirmed a little, feeling self-conscious and embarrassed at the sheer adoration spelled on his face.

"Soooul," she whined, making a grab for his tie again but before she could reach it he pulled it off, despite her vocal protests.

His smirk was wry and something sparked in his eyes that made heat swell up in the pit of her stomach. He fiddled with the tie, eyed her hands pointedly.

"You know...since it's usually me who gets tied up, how about a change of pace?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

She blinked, hands clutching the armrests. "You want to tie me up? Here? Right now?"

"Uh, if you don't want to, I won't. I'm sorry for bringing it up," he said hastily, fidgeting uneasily.

Maka took a deep breath, mulled this over. She had never let him do that with her. He was right. It was usually him who would be sprawled on the bed with his hands tied against the bedpost. She bit her lip, her blood roaring in her ears at the mental picture. She liked being in charge, liked topping him, liked to ride him and tease him, denying his orgasm, until he was begging her for release, pulling at the handcuffs that restrained him. Maybe it was only fair to let him reprociate now. She felt a little anxious, but she trusted this man with all her heart. He'd never hurt her.

"Okay," she said with a nod. "You can tie me up."

His eyes grew wide. "Really?"

She smiled at his eagerness and nodded again, more firmly. He pulled her arms behind the backrest of the chair, crossed her wrists before he tied them together with his tie, giving it a tug to make sure it wasn't too tight.

"Just say the word when you want me to untie you, okay?"

"'kay."

He came to kneel in front of her, pushing her thighs apart. This was unusual. She wasn't used to being so on display. Sure, he had seen her naked plenty enough but never like this, never so submissive and restrained. She inhaled shakily, excited and and nervous at once. She felt her arousal spike when he kissed the inside of her knee, lips slow and sensual in their advance, his blazing red eyes never parting from hers.

She was afraid her heart might just burst out of her chest at this rate. What was he doing? Was this what it was like when you were unable to use your own hands, when you were at the complete mercy of the person you trust? Was that reason why the feeling of each and every press of his lips seemed to be amplified? She didn't know how to handle this─had no idea how what she had expected to be a quick romp on the table of the staff room of a sex shop (!) had turned into this.

The fine hairs on the back of her neck rose when his breath feathered her damp folds. She screwed her eyes shut, lips parting with a moan, only to transform into an impatient growl when he refused to lick her there. The bastard knew the effect it had on her. She glared down at him weakly, futilely pulling at the tie.

The tips of his hair tickled the sensitive skin of her thighs as he switched his attention to her other leg, starting with its knee again. She was surely going to combust if he kept this sweet torture up.

"Soul, please," she whined, eyes heavy-lidded with want.

"Please what?" he asked, his voice muffled against her upper thigh, and she could feel how his lips were stretched into that sultry smirk of his. She shuddered, goosebumps following the path his lips took on her skin. She yelped when he lightly bit her, lapping against the spot soon after appeasingly.

"Mmh, Soul please. I- I need your mouth."

"My mouth is already very busy, Maka. Don't be so needy."

She was going to make him pay for this once this was over. He was not going to let her rest until she spelled it out for him. Maybe this was karma, seeing as she would usually demand the same of him whenever their positions had been reversed. Her fingertips tingled, her skin was scorchingly hot under his attention and her muscles were tense and she was aching for release.

She parted her legs more and he settled between them more comfortably.

"Please Soul, I─ah!"

He didn't even give her time to finish! She threw her head back with a loud moan as he lifted her leg with a hand under her thigh as his other hand spread her folds for him to take in. She was embarrassingly wet, and his tongue was quick and skilled and unrelenting. He suckled on her clit before he switched to give her slit long, slow swipes that made her keen and sob his name, unconsciously pulling at her ties.

"Hah! Soul!"

Her vocabulary was reduced to shouts of his name, of begging him to not stop. She could feel it build up inside of her, liquid heat fluttering in the pit of her stomach, rising higher and higher up her body, reaching her everywhere.

She came with a shrill cry, her toes curling as her back arched off the backrest, and her eyes clenched shut. Her nerve-endings sparked with fire, as her climax washed over her oversensitized body. Soul pulled away from her with a pleased smile, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand with casual nonchalance.

Her chest was still heaving and her vision hadn't entirely gone back to normal, but she couldn't care less in this moment. Maka barely felt him free her hands, the silky tie slithering down from between her wrists. He pulled her on her feet slowly and if he didn't steady her she'd plop back down like a lifeless doll. They kissed leisurely and she realized that he was wearing too much right now. He needed to be naked right now, an insistent tug on his belt loop was all she could muster up in terms of communication.

Soul chuckled lowly, kissing up the shell of her ear before he nibbled on her earlobe, sharp teeth drawing out the sweetest of noises out of her.

Then the door opened. There was a brief moment of what-the-fuck before she came to her senses and shrieked and grabbed her shirt in an attempt to protect her modesty. Soul cursed loudly, turning around and about to yell, but the words died in his throat. Instead he gulped.

"Wait Blair, I can totally explain."

In the doorway stood a tall woman with purple hair and golden eyes. She looked more surprised than angry or disgusted, but Maka still wanted to melt into a goo of no substance and vanish from the earth.

"Soul," the woman began, eyes flitting from him over his shoulder to Maka. She smiled and Maka felt her stomach drop. "When I told you to take care of my customers, I wasn't expecting this!"


	4. Legs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cheerleading!AU. It was kind of embarrassing how much Maka had him wrapped around her little finger without even trying. He could have left this silly club a long time ago already, yet he was still here because he was head over heels in love with this girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This particular installment is another entry for SoMa NSFW Week. The prompt was Legs. Enjoy :)

Soul was a lot of things. He was cool, he was rich and wealthy, he was a passable piano player and good with music, he was rather bad with history (who cared that World War 2 hadn't ended in 1960 but way earlier anyway?) and he was also a cheerleader. Yep.

Of course, cool guys didn't just become cheerleaders. He had been dared to join the cheerleading squad and to drop out after two months. Black*Star was an asshole who loved to humiliate his friends, most of all his closest friend Soul Evans. Soul had naturally refused the dare at first. Nothing was worth the loss of his dignity, and even though he couldn't give a rat's ass about what people thought about him, he'd rather not want to deal with his classmates assholishness about his new extracurricular activity.

The only way Soul had agreed to this was because Black*Star had sneakily got him drunk and promised him that he'd loudly admit with a megaphone that he considered Soul as more awesome than him. Retrospectively, it might seem like a pretty lame exchange. He the cheerleader and Black*Star admitting the truth? It didn't seem fair and maybe it wasn't but considering that it was Black*Star who'd in all seriousness admit to the student body that he was just a loudmouth who couldn't back his bark up was worth something.

Thus, Soul ended up joining the cheerleaders, and it was worse than he had thought it would be. And that was saying something, because Soul found nothing more annoying than the perky squad of girls who'd dance and cheer and be so obnoxiously preppy. He was a quiet person by nature, so being among these girls went pretty much against everything he believed in. He also sucked at cheering because he couldn't give less of a fuck if their dumb football team actually won.

At least he didn't have to move as much. The boys were more or less expected to assist the girls with their insane acrobatics. Soul had to admit, it was sometimes very fascinating how flexible and graceful the girls could be. He knew if he ever attempted one of the daring feats they performed on a daily basis, he'd end up breaking his neck in several ways.

Two months passed, and he was still a cheerleader. Why? Well, at first, he hadn't wanted to admit it and maybe it was stupid as a lot of people in school were giving him shit for being such a 'pansy', but for Soul the reason was very valid. He was─

"Hey, Soul. you ready for today?" Maka asked, smiling brightly as she plopped down next to him on the grass.

His heart skidded to a halt before it went into overdrive, his blood pulsing loudly through his veins. It was a difficult feat not to act uncool around her, and he found out the best way to avoid that was to be a snarky fuck. It earned him more often than not a book against his cranium, but he was ready to accept that instead of getting all doe-eyed and drooly because this girl had him wrapped around her little finger, and she didn't even know.

Soul Evans was in love with Maka Albarn.

Maka was...he didn't even know how describe her because he felt any words he might attempt would do her no justice. She was the cheer captain, but she was also the smartest girl in school, very likely to end up attending an Ivy League University. She was also very pretty and had the most impressive set of legs Soul had ever laid his eyes on. She was kind and helpful and loyal, had a nasty temper and the most amazing green eyes he had ever seen. And he was the lucky guy to always assist her with her lifts!

And he'd have it no other way because the mere thought of having one of the other sleazebags of boys in the cheer squad touching her the way he touched her was unbearable. Not that he took advantage of the situation. At first, he had actually felt insanely awkward at having to touch her in all the places that would usually earn any men a punch to the dick.

Black*Star, after laughing at him and deriding him for still being a cheerleader, had in all honesty expressed some sort of admiration for Soul after seeing him train with the girls.

"Yeah," Soul said gruffly, discreetly leering at the creamy expanse of legs that was so nicely accentuated by the wonderful red skirt all cheerleaders wore. The afternoon sun was hot and he'd rather be spending his time inside instead of stewing like a hot potato outside. It was ridiculous how much he was into this girl.

Soon the others were there as well. Too soon for his liking as Maka immediately started to chat with them. He had never pegged himself as a jealous guy, yet here he was, refusing to leave the team because a, he wanted to spend more time with her but was too chicken to ask her out, and b, he didn't want to - absolutely did not want to - have another guy having his hands all over her legs and hips and butt.

Muttering a few curses under his breath, he shouted out a weak, "Coming," once Maka beckoned him over to start training. It was the same as every day. They'd start with the basic steps, the cheers and chants before they went for the lifts and somersaults and what have you. They continued with the simple jumps and positions to warm up for the stunts.

There was a reason why Maka was the cheer captain. Without a doubt she had the most stamina and she was also the most athletic of the girls. While the others were out of breath, she was still going strong, spurring the others on and motivating them.

With the stunts came the difficult part. Soul was one of the tallest members, but this was the case for all the guys that were in the team, so he took the back spot right behind Maka, calling out the stunts. He grabbed her hips, hoisted her up and pushed her further up by supporting her by her wonderful ass as she quickly came to stand with one foot on Hiro's hand and with the other on his. She held the position for a few seconds, putting her arms up, before she let herself fall, landing in his arms.

She smiled up at him, making his heart flutter in his chest as he let her down and tried to hide his blush. If he weren't so scared to drop her if he didn't pay attention, he might even enjoy touching her, but he was usually more focused on holding her right, not trusting the others to keep her steady while she was doing these crazy neck-breaking stunts.

Though he had to admit that it was nice seeing her walk up to him, so he could grab her ankle and push her up by her butt to hold her up on his own this time. Her thighs were tense as she raised her arms in the air, and he marvelled at her impeccable balance and control. His caught a full view of the bloomers- no wait, those weren't the usual bloomers the girls wore under their skirts. Those were some hot panties he had never seen her wear before and why the hell would Maka─

He released her with a grunt. It wasn't that difficult to carry her around. She was tiny and light as a feather and didn't wear sexy underwear. He was pretty damn sure that those had been boyshorts, not boring bloomers. He eyed her warily but she looked the same as ever, cheerful and happy and innocent with her big green eyes.

After what felt like hours of butt grabbing and thigh holding, training was nearing its end, and it was fine that way as Maka nearly crashed to the ground because that idiot Hiro was doing a shitty job of steadying Maka's leg. Soul caught her before she could get hurt, his eyes ever watchful and trained on her every move. Coach Marie had made sure that in his position as back spot he had to always watch the flyer.

"Are you okay?" he asked, slowly setting her down, still holding her just in case she had hurt herself.

She nodded, patting him on the head as if he were a dog. He wasn't sure if it annoyed him or pleased him more to have her touch him. "Yes, thank you, Soul."

The others left one by one and as he was about to leave for the locker rooms, he noticed Maka stretching and not looking like someone who was about to leave for home. She bent down, her skirt riding up her butt and giving him another wonderful peek of her lacy boyshorts. He shook his head, cheeks heating up as he tried to think of the most unsexy things he could muster up.

"Hey, aren't you going home?" he asked, unbidden words leaving his mouth.

Shaking her head, she muttered, voice low, "No, I want to practice a little more, so I don't end up almost falling the next time again."

Soul blinked, confused. "You know that wasn't your fault, but that idiot's Hiro? You should go home and rest, you did really well today...I mean yeah...you always do well, not only today and-and yeah." Shit, he was a moron. He rubbed the back of his head uneasily, glancing down.

He couldn't quite interpret the look she was giving him, only that the light of the setting sun did weird things to her eyes, made them gleam beautifully and he just wanted to get lost in them.

"I still think I need practice," she said after a while, biting her lip, but instead of continuing with her stretching she plopped down in the grass with a sigh, looking kind of haggard and tired. His brows furrowed, lips setting into a tight line.

"I mean it, Maka, you really should rest; you look tired," he said, seating himself next to her. The air was humid and the sky looked a little too cloudy. "You won't do anyone good, least of all yourself if you tire yourself out."

"I know, I know, but urgh." She let her head hang, the tips of her pigtails sliding over her lean shoulders.

"And also, you're already the best on the team. No one can compare to you and─"

He cut himself off when she snapped her head up to him, eyes clear and narrowed, studying him carefully. "Since when are you such a flatterer, Soul?" she asked, her voice taking on a slight lilt as she smiled and stretched her legs out in front of her, freeing them from the uncomfortable crouch she was in.

It was an automatic reaction of his body, to stare, to appreciate these long, smooth pillars of female beauty and perfection. Cheerleading and all the gymnastics and acrobatics that came with it really had its merits. She had a great body, all lean and wiry muscles all buried beneath soft skin he touched on a daily basis. What would her legs feel like if he were to touch them now? The muscles there relaxed and not under the strain of a stunt. He gulped loudly, feeling hot and warm and in desperate need to dunk his head under cool water.

"I, uh, well you're good. What can I say?"

He just wanted to slap himself. How could he be more inept at this? Maybe he really needed to mingle more with people, to learn how to talk to a girl. He suppressed a groan, looking her in the face only to see her amusement written all over her eyes.

She crossed her legs by the ankles, her skirt riding up her thighs the tiniest bit.

"You know, I remember you teasing me on your first day with us. You called my ankles fat."

His mind came to a screeching halt, all thoughts of her legs wrapped around his waist erased.

"What?" He blinked, praying to God that it was just a coincidence and that she had not actually seen him ogling her like a total creep. At a loss of what to say and do, he just spewed out the first thing that came to his addled mind, "I did not!"

Maka snorted, holding her chin high. "Really? Maybe there was something wrong with my ears then," she continued haughtily, her smile turning cruel. "Oh right! It wasn't my ankles that were not satisfactory but my chest instead. Am I wrong?" She raised an eyebrow and Soul felt the desperate need to dig himself a hole and bury himself alive. "Tell me, Soul. Why do you like to pick on me so much when I always see you watching me even outside of practice? Why do you bitch about cheerleading when you can just leave and never come back, huh?"

He could only stammer like an illiterate idiot. She had basically caught him, calling him out on his dumb behavior. He should have known really. Maka Albarn was no idiot, she was perceptive and smart, a definite factor why he likes her so much. Perhaps it was time to come clean with her; that is, if she didn't just reject him on the spot because he had always been such an ass to her. Maybe insulting her body was not the ideal way of getting closer to the girl of your affections.

Taking a deep breath, he dug his fingers into the moist grass beneath him. "I never meant any of those things."

"Oh? So you want to tell me that becoming a cheerleader had always been your dream?"

"What the─" he threw her an incredulous glance, "─since when do you use sarcasm?!"

"You must have rubbed off on me," she stated simply.

"Okay, okay. I joined the cheerleading squad because I was dare to! There, happy?"

She gave him another one of those looks he couldn't decipher and it pissed him off. She hummed thoughtfully to herself.

"Why didn't you leave after the two months you had to stay here to win the bet?"

"Because I- hey, how do you know this?"

God, how much more did she know?!

She glanced at him from beneath her fringe, green eyes calculating and dark. "I have my...sources."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" He ran his palm down his face, agitation rising in his chest as he tried to ward off the pressing weight of uneasiness. He hated himself more when he saw how she uncrossed her ankles, her leg sliding down to the ground.

In one moment he was contemplating the best way to get out of here and in the next she was right in front of him, looking livid.

"Damn it, Soul, why don't you just...tell me."

Maybe he had him figured out already. It seemed actually very likely, and he didn't know how to handle it. He let out a groan and gritted his teeth, his fist clenching in the roots of his hair. She was close, too close for this to be considered a friendly moment. Her eyes sparked wildly, he could feel her breath brushing against his jaw. She was breathing hard.

He didn't give his hands the command to wrap around her upper arms, nor did he tell his thumb to caress her skin there. He exhaled through his nose, jaw tense.

"I didn't leave because I wanted to spend more time with you," he said in a hushed whisper.

"Tsubaki told me that you made a bet with Black*Star, and even though you pissed me off at first I didn't want you to go," she admitted softly, crawling closer to him.

His heart jumped, his breath catching in his throat. Before he could say anything in response, she continued hastily, "I actually like...you, and when you didn't leave after two months I didn't know what to think, but then I noticed you...looking at me and-and I thought that maybe, that maybe you like me back, but you never said anything." She released a frustrated huff of air from between her teeth. "Not even when I tried to get your attention."

There were a lot of things in these few seconds for him to process and he wasn't entirely sure if he was doing a good job processing. First, Black*Star had apparently ratted him out to Tsubaki, who had told Maka about the bet. Second, Maka liked him! 

"Is that what your new panties today were about? Trying to get my attention?" He asked, voice thick.

She giggled, red crawling over her cheeks. "Today? I have been wearing that sort of underwear for a long time, Soul. I haven't worn my bloomers for how many weeks now? Don't tell me you didn't notice," she said, her tone taking on a shrill edge.

She had been trying to get his attention via wearing sexy underwear! For him! His brain might have short-circuited at this a little.

"Honestly, I didn't, I was too busy watching you not fall, instead of looking under your skirt," he mumbled petulantly. Even though it was very tempting and kind of unavoidable, Soul generally managed to be a gentleman about this sort of issue. Sure, the girls jumped a lot and their skirts were not the magical gravity defying sort of material, so he more often than not got a good glimpse of their bloomers, but as he said, he was usually more concerned with watching Maka's movements and if she was being unbalanced to catch her in case she were to fall.

"You're cute," she said with a laugh, and of course, Soul couldn't take such a statement without blushing again.

"I'm not cute!"

"You're blushing. Oh my God!" She poked his cheek for good measure, cooing at the red that stained his face and underlined how uncool he was in reality.

"Stop that!"

"But─"

"No." He grabbed her wrists, realizing how much closer she had gotten. She was practically straddling his lap, her skirt riding high on her legs, doing a shitty job of covering. "M-maka?"

Her eyes became heavy-lidded and her fingers smoothed over his cheekbones, his jawline, his lips.

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

She stilled for a moment, seeming to realize what was going on. She bit her lip. "Trying to be sexy?"

His mouth twitched and his hands settled comfortably on her hips, pulling her down more firmly onto his lap. He was partly hard already, but there was no way to stay unaffected by the way she looked at him and rubbed herself against his groin.

Soul muffled a groan in her neck, placed a kiss there, smirking at her jumping pulse. "I would have never thought you'd be one trying to seduce someone in a public place."

She pulled away slightly, smirking down at him. "You know nothing, Soul Evans."

And with that she took the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, leaving her in her bra that matched her panties perfectly. His mouth went dry. He was the luckiest man on earth. How had he ended up in this position again? It didn't matter now, did it? He had a half-naked girl in his lap, the girl he had been lusting after for months and months, the girl he couldn't help but admire for her determination and intelligence and strength.

He gasped, grabbing her ass when she ground against him just the right way.

"Take this off," she whispered, tugging impatiently at his shirt, and who was he not to comply? His shirt was gone in an instant and her hands slid from his shoulders down to his chest, grazing nipples, muscle and heated skin.

He couldn't take it anymore; pulling her down, he slanted his mouth over hers, his dick painfully hard at the tiny mewls she graced him with. Her tongue was insistent and forceful, pushing against his with a vigour he hadn't known she had. Perhaps he hadn't been the only one getting hot and bothered during practice. Soul palmed her breasts, catching her high-pitched gasp with another hungry kiss. They were small and her nipples were hard and visible against the lacy thing, and they fit perfectly into his hands.

Unable to deal with the machinations of bras and the difficulty of taking them off, he simply edged the straps down her arms, slipping the cups down to reveal two handfuls of girl-flesh. He tugged and pinched her nipples, took one in his mouth and bit down lightly. Her reaction was instantaneous; a sharp cry and her fists tightening in his hair to pull him closer, her back arching into his mouth.

It vaguely occured to him that they were in a very public place and that anyone could see them going at. His brain was muddled, his body drunk on Maka, and he really really didn't want to stop, but he felt the need to address the matter regardless.

"Don't worry," she gasped, raking her fingers through his hair, making him look up into her eyes. Her pupils were wide and her lips parted. "No one comes here at this time of day."

It was enough to convince him as pathetic of a reassurance it was. Screw that, he was getting laid! He clutched at her thighs as he mouthed her ear, his cock stirring painfully in the confines of his pants as she moaned and tilted her head to the side to give him better access. Letting out a pleased grunt, he shoved her skirt up her legs, groped her flesh there, giddy and elated that he was finally touching these sinful legs not because of practice, not because he had to make sure she didn't fall, but because he could, because she let him.

Maka's hips flexed, her movements becoming rougher and more forceful and he seriously needed to get out of his pants, right now. His hand went to his trunks, clumsily trying to push them down to no avail. His limbs weren't cooperating, the only logical thing seemed to touch Maka all over, and when she finally noticed, pulling away with a disgruntled groan, she stood shakily, taking off her shirt. She took her sweet time with her panties, lips curling into a teasing smirk as she held his wondrous gaze and wiggled out of the garment. He would never be able to go through practice again without picturing her naked.

She raised an eyebrow, placing her hands on her hips. "What about you?"

It took him a moment to decode the sounds and syllables of her question, but once it dawned on him that she was giving him time to get equally naked, he raised himself on his feet, stripping awkwardly, fingers jittery and quivering. When he was finally free of unnecessary clothes, she pounced on him, smashing their mouth together, tongues tangling as he barely could hold onto her, hands stroking her hipbones and waist.

He wanted her, he wanted her so much he was surely going to lose his sanity, but he also wanted to please her. He planted open mouthed wet kisses on her throat, nipped on her shoulder and made his way further down, lapping languidly at her breasts, dipping his tongue into her navel before he was kneeling in front of her. Even she looked surprised at this.

Giving Maka a comforting smile, he ran his palms up her thighs, marvelling once again at the perfection that was her skin, how strong her legs were.

"You're so wet already, Maka," he said, voice strained with want. She whimpered when he blew against her sensitive folds, relishing in how she seemed to close to lose her footing just by that. Smirking pleasedly, he let his tongue dart out to taste her for the first time. He had had thousands of dreams about this, about them being nude and sweaty and horny.

She clutched his hair desperately, mewls and moans escaping her mouth together with broken syllables of his name. He could definitely get used to this. His thumb caressed her skin smoothly, while his other hands spread her folds for him and sunk a finger into her tight heat, making her legs buckle dangerously.

"Soul-oh! Oh!"

Her voice was like music to his ears, a sweet tinkling sound, and he was determined to hear it as often as he could like this. He sucked on her clit noisily, let his tongue swipe against it in broad strokes, before he alternated to tease her with the tip. He could feel her reaching her orgasm quickly, the way she tightened around him, the way her voice took on a needy quality and the way she tugged at his hair, making him growl, were a dead giveaway.

She came forcefully, clenching around his finger as he lapped at her until her cries turned hoarse and she nearly fell down. He steadied her by her hips and brought her down to her knees, smiling haughtily at his accomplishment. She looked absolutely gorgeous, hair wild, face flushed and her eyes hazy with lust. Her teeth buried in her bottom lip as she pushed him on the ground, making him lie down flat on his back.

His breath caught in his throat, his heart thudding excitedly against rips as she straddled him again. Though this time there were no undergarments separating them; she was right there, wet and ready for him. Soul gulped loudly, running his hands over her legs repeatedly. He couldn't help it, didn't know how to be around her when she was wearing nothing but those short skirts of hers.

She took his cock in a careful but firm grip, rubbed herself against him, humping him in ways he didn't know he could be humped, drawing throaty gasps out of him. He was holding her hips, supporting her as she slowly sank down in him and Soul couldn't even begin to describe how amazing she felt.

Throwing his head back, he moaned lowly as she set up a slow heady rhythm, leaning down to kiss him. He knew he wasn't going to last long and it was a mild comfort that he had managed to make her at least come with his mouth before. The muscles on his thighs were tense, her eyes alight with desire as she scraped her nails against his broad shoulders, his arms.

Their lips mingled, exchanging kisses and breaths, and he could only whisper against her ear how much he had wanted her, how beautiful and hot she was, how wonderful she felt, so tight and oh, she was driving him crazy, and her marvelous legs; he didn't know how to even try to tell her how fantastic they were. Maka rewarded him by quickening her pace, crying out his name in that high-pitched frantic way.

She was close to orgasm again, his ego soaring, but he'd still come before her if she kept this up. Gathering the last vestiges of coherent thought, he brought his hand between them, rubbed her clit as she rode him to her unmaking Her hair spilled all around her as she threw her head back, whimpering loudly, nails digging into his chest, and he rolled his hips in time with hers.

He was mesmerized by her face, the way it twisted in pleasure, how it was him who made her feel like this. She bit her lip and came with a last shout of his name as he pulsed in her, taken over the edge with the way she clenched around him.

She toppled down on him, snuggling against his chest with a pleased sigh not giving a damn about how sticky and wet and gross they were. Soul couldn't be happier at this moment, even if his entire back was probably dyed green from the grass he had spent the last minutes on being topped by Maka. He serenely combed his fingers through her tousled hair, eyes drawn to the sky. The sun had set already.

He swallowed down his disappointment. He'd need to leave soon before his brother's paranoia caught up with him and he came to look for him. The last thing he needed was Wes seeing him like this. He could think of thousands of different ways he'd rather have his post-coital bliss ruined instead.

Maka raised her head, smiling down at him before she kissed him gently. She understood. Reluctantly, they stood up, cleaned up the the best they could and got dressed. He offered her a ride home because he was a gentleman and because he wanted to spend more time with her even if it was for just a few minutes longer.

The ride to her place was too short and she pointedly instructed him not to park his bike right in front of her house, lest her crazy father decided to murder Soul.

The moonlight seemed to captured in her eyes when she looked at him for a moment, hands clasped together behind her back.

"Let's do something tomorrow, okay?"

He bit back a smile, finding her sudden shyness endearing more than anything.

"Sure," he said and pulled her in for a last kiss, whispering against her lips, "But next time let's keep the sex in the bedroom."

She squeaked and smacked him halfheartedly before she bid him a goodnight. Soul grinned, watched her until her father opened the door for her, questioning her immediately why she was so late today. Soul took this as his cue to leave, his grin still plastered firmly on his face as he couldn't help but look forward to the next cheerleading session.

 


	5. First Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I had my first kiss with Black*Star," Maka said and with that Soul's whole world came crashing down as he proceeded to handle this matter like a petulant child.

"What?! Could you repeat that?"

Soul refused to believe what his ears had just clearly registered. No, no, no. He'd need to clean his ears extra well this time because her toxic words of unmatched horror might slowly enter his brain and eat through it like a fucking parasite. He was very tempted to throw the can of coke that was so close to being crushed in his iron fist against the wall, or perhaps to squeeze it more tightly in his hand that it burst. Anything really─ he'd do anything to release this sudden surge of wrath that was about to run amok in his blood vessels.

The look Maka gave him was suspicious at best, and maybe he looked like he was in the pre-stage of a conniption right now. Though she ignored his tomato-red face and smiled, eyes glazing over in remembrance. "It's as I told you, Soul," she said matter-of-factly, "I had my first kiss with Black*Star."

His hand twitched. It twitched very powerfully.

"Soul! Why the hell did you throw the can against the wall?!"

"You had your first kiss with Black*Star? Seriously, Maka? How sad is that?" He forced himself to guffaw, because teasing her and making fun of her was better than the other thing he was very inclined to do─ bash his head against the wall and cry and bitch about the unfairness of the world. His spine nearly threatened to leave his body with the amount of shuddering he did at the mere thought of Maka's wonderful, plump lips having ever been connected to...and here he shuddered again, to Black*Star's. "I thought even someone as unappealing as you had some standards, but seems like you─"

"Maka-chop!"

"Ow, fuck."

* * *

After Soul cleaned up the mess he made and calmed down from his totally uncool outburst, he went into a state of acceptance. So what if Maka and Black*Star had kissed once? Who the hell cared? It wasn't his damn business and acting like some possessive jerk over it wasn't like him at all. Okay, maybe he had been slowly but surely falling in love with his meister and maybe he had had some fantasies about them being each others' firsts in every sense, so it kind of burst his little bubble of fluff that he had to erase this G-rated fantasy from his list.

Anyway, he was a cool guy and he was going to be accepting. He was cool like that. Yep. Seriously, he wasn't bothered by it. Nope.

…

…

…

When could it have happened? Probably before he and Maka had partnered up, possibly before they had even met. How could he have been so stupid?!

Black*Star and Maka were childhood friends! They had a history! Who knew what else they did together. A shudder wracked Soul's body as his thoughts wandered into a direction he NEVER EVER wanted them to go, least of all when they involved Black*Star and Maka together.

But Soul was a cool guy. And he'd deal with it as cool guys did.

* * *

Soul knew it was petulant of him to do that. And not cool at all, but after a night's worth of tossing and turning in his bed with his brain supplying him images of unmentionable horrors, he couldn't resist.

He wasn't entirely sure if all the execrable scenarios he had seen flash in front of his eyes last night had been nightmares, or if his overactive brain had been energetically concocting all the worst case scenarios there were.

One scenario of the Unmentionable was Black*Star and Maka kissing right after Soul had agreed to partner up with her. Soul had been looking for his new partner only to see her pecking Black*Star on the lips.

Another one had to be the vilest of nightmares Soul had as it consisted of Black*Star not only sucking face with his wonderful meister, but also pushing his hand beneath her shirt.

Soul's skin prickled as if a thousand ants decided to crawl on his fucking arms.

"You should have seen that asshole!" Black*Star bellowed, his voice echoing through the whole cafeteria, drowning out everyone else. He brought his fist to his chest proudly, grinning like the shit-eating little monkey he was. "Of course, he couldn't stand a chance against the great and awesome Black*Star. I am the biggest and strongest of all!"

While Tsubaki feigned polite admiration at her partner's antics, the others did well to ignore him. Of course, Black*Star was strong, nobody was doubting that. But his tales of badassery got old very quickly, especially if he insisted on relaying them so loudly that it threatened to shatter the eardrums of everyone in a hundred mile radius.

Usually, Soul would be the first to roll his eyes, mutter a quiet "That's great, Black*Star", maybe even give him a high five and turn back to eat his subpar food. Today was not one of those days of calm rationality.

Soul scoffed loudly, regarding his best friend with a look of thinly veiled disdain he tried to mask of as boredom. "Please, 'the biggest of all'?" he mocked, voice dripping with venom. "You're saying that so often it makes me wonder if you're trying to compensate for something."

Black*Star blinked, let his fork almost drop as his grin fell. He was too confused to react properly, his brows furrowing. "What the hell, Soul?"

Soul just snorted, decided to ignore Black*Star now because the others were taking note of his odd behavior. He really didn't need that! Least of all did he need Maka calling him out on his shit. He chomped angrily on the overcooked noodles, but Black*Star was never the one to let a case rest.

"What do you mean, Soul? Compensating for something? What kind of problem do you have, dude?" Much to his credit, Black*Star actually managed to lower the volume of his voice a little.

Soul knew he was in the wrong here, but it was still tempting to snark at Black*Star. He bit his tongue though, clenched his fist as he turned to look at Black*Star with cold eyes. "Nothing, nevermind. I was...being uncool," he said and stood up, taking mild satisfaction from the assassin's gobsmacked face.

"Where are you going, Soul? You haven't even touched your food," Maka said calmly, curiously glancing up at him.

He managed a wry smirk. "I'm not hungry. See you in class."

And with that he stormed off, his cool barely regained, and went where nobody could find him.

* * *

The library was rarely visited terrain for Soul. If he ever went there, it was because either Maka made him do it or because he was looking for Maka. This made him aware of a grave fallacy of his. He didn't want to be found and nobody would come looking for him in the library, but Maka, ever the bookworm, would surely come here even during her lunch break! The nerd!

Soul ran a hand through his hair, tousling it more, and groaned loudly, earning him a few dirty stares from other bookworms nearby. He sighed to himself, struggled to his feet and went outside. A walk in the fresh air sounded like a good idea now.

The sky was a bit cloudy and grey and it would surely be raining after classes were over. At least the weather fit his mood. He really needed to get a grip on himself. There were more pressing matters he could be losing his shit over instead. Not a dumb, probably innocent kiss between two childhood friends.

Childhood friends.

The words rang shrilly in his mind. They were indeed childhood friends. Hadn't Black*Star been just about a few months old when Maka was born? They had been practically raised together! Even if they never showed it, they had to be the closest two in their group. Oh God, if one of them had been a weapon instead of a meister, they certainly would have partnered up. Maka probably knew things about Black*Star nobody else knew. And what about Black*Star? What did he know about Maka that Soul didn't?

And then there was this kiss. Maka's first kiss. Maybe it had just been a small peck. It had to have been just that. Or maybe they hadn't been as young as Soul was imagining them to be. Maybe the kiss had happened after he had partnered up with Maka. Fuck, he hadn't asked her to clarify the when and why!

Maybe they had even used tongue!

God, he was about to retch.

What if they did more than kissing? What if it went further?

He limply plopped down on the grass, pale-faced and tired. He had to make sure to regain his composure at least somewhat before he faced his friends again, but the mere thought of Maka's arms being wrapped around Black*Star's neck in a close embrace, of their lips being joined, their tongues exchanging spit and─

Soul had to lie down. He curled into himself, tried to erase these mentally scarring images from his brain.

Maka had sounded kind of pleased when she told him that Black*Star had been her first kiss now that he thought about it. Maybe...maybe they were even together!

Okay, okay. Soul could totally handle this. He would be supportive of them and wish them the best and all the happiness in the world, and not mind when they decided to exchange their saliva right in front him.

He grimaced, gritting his teeth hard. He would be okay.

* * *

He was woken from his nap he didn't remember ever taking by an angry Maka who shook his shoulder heatedly.

"Soul! What are you doing here outside? You missed class!"

He blinked once, twice and rubbed his eyes. "Whu?"

Maka graced him with a bone-eroding glare. "Do you know what time it is?!"

"Uh..."He looked up, the sky had become greyer, and he wasn't sure but he might have heard the faint rumble of thunder in the distance.

"Class is already over. Do you know how worried I was?"

He shook his head a little, reorienting himself. He didn't remember falling asleep and he hadn't planned on ditching class. There was a classier and safer way to go on about stuff like that, and taking a nap in the schoolyard was not it.

"Sorry," he mumbled. She looked kind of cute being all worried about him, but that feeling of being considered special was quickly squashed when today's events came rushing back into his mind with a vengeance.

"What is it with that face?" Maka asked, her brows creased, and sat down next to him.

"Kinda tired, that's all."

"You already slept through half a day of class, Soul," she said admonishingly, but there was humour in her voice. "Now tell me what has been bothering you. You've been acting weird the whole day. Why did you snap at Black*Star like that?"

He groaned, drowsily rubbing his eye. "Don't remind me. I was just in a bad mood and he was annoying. It was not cool of me, I know." Man, he had become a great liar.

Maka rolled her eyes and huffed as she crossed her arms. "I'm not stupid, Soul. You're lying."

Or not so great.

"What's wrong? And don't you dare to get out of this by saying stuff like 'you're just being paranoid, Maka'," she said, mimicking his voice. He had to bite back a smile at her faux gravelly voice. She could be so cute sometimes. And of course, he couldn't be the first one to take note of this. Maka was a very desirable girl, after all, even if his prepubescent self would disagree strongly, but Soul had been an idiot back then.

This could be the best time as any to talk to her. Soul knew he wouldn't be able to dodge this conversation, but how could he talk to her about it if he didn't want to come out with his feelings for her? And this still left the issue if there was more with Black*Star going on. If she harbored feelings for that oaf, then It would just mess things up if Soul confessed his own for Maka. He sighed heavily, running his palm over his face.

"I am your meister and friend, Soul and we agreed that we wouldn't keep anything from each other."

"Yeah, but..."

"But what?"

"This isn't easy to talk about."

"What do you mean?" She shot him a suspicious glance; the same she'd give him whenever she thought he smelled like pot after he had stayed out a few hours too long with Black*Star. If the blue monkey and Maka were really together, wouldn't Black*Star have shouted it out at every opportunity? He wasn't known to be subtle or sensible and maybe Soul was thinking too much into this stupid matter. He might as well just get it out now.

Gathering all the bravery he could, he turned to face Maka. "It's about...what you said this morning."

She cocked her head to the side, eyes wide and puzzled, and her expression was the most precious thing Soul had ever seen that he came close to fawning over her like a bad Spirit-clone. He shook his head a little, his mind slightly less hazy.

"I mean about Black*Star having been your first kiss and all. Look, I know it's not something I should blow up out of proportion like that; it was not okay of me to snap at Black*Star, but...you know, it was kind of...surprising- no, not that, but it kind of made me upset a little, I guess, even though I have no room to be upset as you can kiss whoever you want whenever you want and I was just being a brat about it and I'll make sure to...not be so lame anymore," he finished lamely, mortification setting his cheeks ablaze. He wanted to ram his head against the closest tree he could find because he could not have been more confusing and stupid. He wouldn't even blame her if she had decided to zone out during his dumb rambling.

Maka just smiled and Soul wasn't sure if this sinking feeling of humiliation just doubled or got halved; it was hard to tell. But there was nothing necessarily taunting about her smile, maybe there was a little humour in it, nothing mean-spirited.

"I can't believe that has been bothering you," she mumbled blithely, finding her crossed feet more interesting than him.

"Well yeah, now you know."

What now? Soul didn't want to analyze the possible ramifications their little conversation could have for them. He felt sort of better for telling her, but on the other hand, he knew this matter wouldn't vanish so easily. He might still need to talk to Black*Star and maybe even explain his behavior to the rest of his friends. It was a possibility that made the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand because, while Kid and Tsubaki were tactful, Liz and Patti would tease him mercilessly if they ever found out that he was being a lovesick idiot.

"It happened in kindergarten," Maka said, pulling him out of his frantic thoughts. His head shot up so quickly Soul feared he might give himself a whiplash. Nevertheless, he listened to Maka's little tale with rapt attention. "We were playing a game where we pretended to be the bride and groom and that's when he kissed me."

Soul's heart threatened to burst, his head feeling light and deprived of blood. Maka giggled quietly, lips curved into a grin as she nodded at his flabbergasted face. "Yep, we even had 'wedding rings' we had made from paper. His actually ripped when I tried to put it onto his finger. It was quite the horrible wedding, and I think if Black*Star and I ever seriously considered getting hitched, our real wedding wouldn't be much different from the play-wedding in kindergarten. Oh and also it was just a kiss on the cheek─" her voice took on a teasing quality, playful and coy as she nudged him with her elbow, "─nothing to get jealous over."

He was too relieved to properly react to her little jab. He plopped back on the grass with a sigh, a grin threatening to split his face in two. "Sooo, I'm guessing you don't plan on marrying Black*Star ever, or kissing him for that matter?"

Maka shuddered, shaking her head in mock horror. "Nope! It'd be weird. I grew up with him and he's too annoying. I don't know how Tsubaki can deal with him on a daily basis."

He chuckled, twisted his body to the side and watched her more closely. "Also that first kiss with Black*Star doesn't count if it was just on the cheek. Seriously, I freaked out over nothing but just him giving you a slobbery cheek."

She let out a snort, her eyes sweet and poisonous. "Why were you freaking out about it in the first place, Soul?" she asked, shifting closer to him.

Words of snark died on the tip of his tongue, making him cringe at her victorious expression. Damn it, he had hoped she'd just let it pass or even better, just return his feelings. But, of course, he had no idea if she indeed harboured the same feelings for him.

He swallowed hard, his tie too tight around his throat, his mouth parched and his palms moist with cold sweat. "Um, I...uh─"

Her lips were on his before he could figure out what was happening. He went a little cross-eyed, watching her passively. Maka's eyes were closed, her nose bumping against his awkwardly and even though it was a little weird, it was still a nice kiss. She pulled away too soon and let out a cute huff, her cheeks a light pink.

They stared at each other for a moment; Maka's confidence seemed to waver, and he realized that staring like a fish at her was probably giving her the wrong signals. So he did what he considered the most reasonable. Placing his hand behind her neck, he pulled her towards him. She let out a high-pitched squeak and giggled a little when their noses bumped again, this time more painfully. He grinned, all sharp teeth and giddy elation before he kissed her.


	6. Partner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vampire AU! He was no hero, he wasn't hunting them because he wanted to make the world a better place. Not really. But Arachne was dangerous and he'd dispose of her once and for all. He just needed to convince a pretty blonde to assist him in this mission.

"You're asking me to help you infiltrate my own kind, so you can kill them?" Maka scoffed, the green of her eyes shimmered in the dim light of the room, leaf green turning into a toxic shade of viridian. Soul gulped as she crossed her legs, pale columns of perfection. He forced himself to look away. "Pray tell, why should I help you, Evans?"

"Because you have always been helping me," Soul said casually- at least he hoped it was casual, and crossed his arms over his chest. "How is this different from giving me all the information I need about my newest bounty?"

"I am a knowledge broker," she stated blankly, turning away from him as her fingers moved fluidly over the keys of her laptop, the screen flickering. "I need to earn my money, too, somehow. But what you're asking of me is active participation in a plan to kill someone of my own kind."

"Come on, Maka." He stepped close to her desk, placing his hand close to hers. "You hate that woman as much as I do. She's dangerous."

"I'm surprised anyone dared to place a bounty on her head to begin with."

"Hey, don't try to change the topic." Soul placed his hand firmly on her wrist, making her halt her frantic typing. "Did you forget what she did to your family. You father and mother and─"

"I know what she did!" Maka tore her hand out of his grasp, growling under her breath. "I don't need a puny human like you to tell me that!"

His eyes grew wide for a moment, but he knew she wouldn't attack him. Maka Albarn knew better than to harm her most regular customer and partner. However, Soul also knew not to push her buttons too far; as much as she tolerated him to the point they could speak of their partnership as a shaky sort of friendship, Maka was deadly, even if her pretty round face concealed that well. He had after all seen her rip a man's throat apart once without so much as a blink.

"I'm sorry," he said, sighing heavily, as he took a few steps back. She needed some space now. "But think about it, okay? We could be rid of that woman once for all and the streets would be safer for everyone."

He paused at the door, pulling the zipper of his black leather jacket up to his collarbones, and put his riding gloves on. Before he could leave her tiny inconspicuous office that belied very much the far-reaching network of informants Maka Albarn had her hand on, her soft voice drifted towards him just as he was turning the doorknob.

"Aright. Just this once. But don't come to me dressed like that." She sniffed as she pointed at his biker attire with a scowl. "Wear a suit. Leave your bike home. I'll take her of our vehicle."

* * *

The Albarn clan once used to be at the very top of the food chain in this wretched world, and they ruled the streets of this city with an iron fist, which arguably had made them safer than they were now. Even if  _Bloodsuckers_  were still roaming the streets, harassing humans, there had been an alliance that was supposed to keep such incidents at a minimum. The day the head of the Albarns, an impressive young woman going by the name of Kami (but nobody was sure if that had been indeed her name) was murdered, the shaky truce between humans and Bloodsuckers ceased.

Apparently Spirit Albarn was quite the chatterbox when properly inebriated and sexually satisfied. It had been no secret that he preferred the bed of other women to that of his own wife. Rumours said that he had been, in spite of his infidelity, devastated by his mate's death, even more so when he found out that if he had kept his mouth shut, Arachnophobia would have never had the opportunity to slay Kami.

"You may not speak until you're spoken to. And I will probably have to drink some of your blood at one point if you want to pass off as my pet," Maka explained calmly, her voice almost bored. Soul gave a noncommittal grunt as he resisted the urge to leer at her legs. He already knew the rules, but he didn't know that Maka Albarn cleaned up this nicely; not that she was unattractive to begin with, but she was especially a delight to the eyes in that sleek, form-fitting dress of hers. The slit at the side of the skirt was a nice touch, revealing a lot more leg than Soul was used to.

She looked like one of  _them_ \- which she admittedly was, having been spared by Arachne in an act of pity? Indifference? Kindness? Nobody knew for sure, but Maka was the last surviving Albarn. Perhaps it was foolish of him to ask her for help, but she was the only Bloodsucker (a term he made sure to never use in front of her) he trusted. Maka would draw more attention than the  _pet_  she had chosen to bring along to this fancy gathering and Soul could corner Arachne without drawing too much attention to him to kill that woman.

He smiled to himself; if this mission proved to be successful, he could live a comfortable life with the bounty that had been placed by some anonymous source on Arachne's head. Not that Soul could blame that person. Arachne's web was probably more widespread than Maka's, and she was cruel as she was unforgiving.

"Soul? Soul, are you listening?"

He perked up, confused and startled, but then he eased back against the cool leather seat of the limousine. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

Maka's eyes narrowed. "You can't allow yourself to be this careless. Not only are you endangering your mission, but also me. Maybe it was a mistake to agree to his," she muttered, biting the pad of her thumb.

"The pay will be worth it." He grinned rakishly.

"Oh please, as if you're my only customer," she said, snorting loudly, and raised her chin, looking very much like the haughty creature she was born as.

"You're wounding me, Maka. I thought what we had was special." Soul clutched his hand in front of his heart, waggling his eyebrows, irrationally happy when her lips curved into a mild smile. It did funny things to his stomach whenever he managed to make her smile or grin.

"Tsk, no. I am available for everyone who needs information. I do not discriminate in that regard, so you're not getting any special treatment from me."

"Oh and here I thought I was taking you to a ball, pretending to be my wife, basically helping me with my job."

"First─" She help up her forefinger, her eyes full with unconcealed irritation, "─I am taking you to the ball. Second─" her middle finger followed, "─I am not pretending to be your wife, or date, or mate, but you are pretending to be my pet. The difference is important, Evans. You need to know your place or our cover will be blown as soon as we step into that building."

"I know, I know." He waved a dismissive hand as he leaned his head against cool glass of the car.

"You know nothing," she snapped and stood up, leaning forward and gripping by the lapels of his jacket. She swiftly undid the two top buttons of his blood red shirt before she sat down on her own seat again, crossing her lean arms in front of her. "A pet's neck can't be covered like that, Soul."

He blinked slowly, unconsciously touched the collar of his shirt as he tried not to blush at her smug little smile.

* * *

They had no shame. At all. Soul willed his pokerface to stay in place, even when there were Bloodsuckers all around him, almost all of them with their pets, hanging on their arms as they fed on the humans.

Maka drew all attention to herself as he had expected, and he felt perhaps a little bad for getting her into this. But he didn't know how else to get close to Arachne and around her bodyguards and overpower her on top of that. If his plan were to fail, he'd make Maka's safety his main priority; he owed her that at least.

Arachne's heels clicked loudly against the dark marble floor as she approached Maka with hasty steps, her blood red lips curved into a polite smile. "Maka, my dear!" She took Maka's hands into her gloved ones, and pressed her white cheek against Maka's, feigning enthusiasm. "It's been quite awhile. How have you been?"

Putting on her best smile, Maka easily fell into the routine of idle chitchat, doing a great job of sounding respectful. She looked almost comfortable, but her shoulders were tense, her eyes pools of green venom as she spoke to the woman who had her family killed. Maybe this was the reason, Arachne hadn't killed Maka? To be able to look down on her? To hold her alleged mercy over Maka in a cruel display of her power?

"Ah, and who might this handsome young man be?" Soul almost flinched when Arachne put her hand against his cheek. He lowered his eyes quickly, recalling Maka's instructions about how a real pet was to act. Don't look them in the eyes, don't speak until you're being directly addressed. It was humiliating, but he'd swallow his pride and gloat later when he sliced this woman's throat in half. "Your pet, I assume?"

"Yes," Maka growled, flippantly pushing Arachne's hand away. " _He's mine."_

Arachne's finely arched brows furrowed, violet eyes flickering with anger at Maka's insolence, but Maka stood her ground, had her fists clenched by her sides, and met the older woman's glare steadily. Soul didn't dare to look up, not wanting to draw more attention to himself than he already had now. The entire ballroom had fallen silent, nobody moved. He could feel their stares, disdainfully focused on Maka and some directed at him. An icy shudder ran down his spine as he discreetly watched the Bloodsuckers and their pets from the corners of his eyes. He needed to finish this job quickly or he'd be their next meal.

"Of course, my dear," Arachne eventually amended, patting Maka on her shoulder. "Enjoy your stay, and don't hesitate to ask if you need something."

"Thank you."

And with that the head of Arachnophobia left them and the world realigned itself as they became just two random guests in the mass of many others. But Soul could feel their lingering stares, their unnaturally bright eyes holding promises and threats he couldn't decode.

* * *

Soul groaned as Maka pushed him harshly against the wall, latching her lips onto his neck. His pulse jumped the moment her tongue darted out to taste his skin, his throat clogging up as he struggled to breathe like a normal human being.

"She's going to retire for the night soon," she whispered lowly, sharp pointy canines breaking his skin, making him gasp. Maybe they should have practiced this before. He had never been a victim of a vampire attack, didn't know what it felt like to have his life's essence sucked out of him. It didn't hurt aside from the first pinpricks of her teeth. His eyes drooped, his mind growing hazy as he gripped her hips tightly and pulled her roughly against him. Maka pulled away for the briefest of a second and placed her mouth right next to his ear, her breath making his limbs shiver. "Focus, Soul." She licked up his ear, her hand fisting in his shirt. "She's going to take the third corridor on the right. Pay attention and don't mess it up."

He shook his head, but his brain was still addled, his senses on fire, his heart going haywire at her touch. Biting back a groan, he forced himself to nod because yes, as delightful as it was to have this lovely woman pressed against him and her mouth working skillfully on his neck, he had a mission to accomplish and a bounty to secure. Ah, but this was so nice; her hips were perfectly shaped to fit into his hands, her waist tiny and elegantly curved, her voice the sweetest melody to his ears as she panted against him. He liked to think it wasn't because she was a great actress, but because she appreciated this closeness as much as he did. Her lips were back at his neck, her hands moving up and down his chest.

"Mmm, you need to follow her, but her bodyguards will be with her. You have to make sure they don't see you...or smell you." At this she pressed even closer, and his heart dropped when he realized why she was being overly touchy with him. Of course, if he smelled more like her, like a fucking Bloodsucker, he would less likely be discovered and beaten to an untimely death. "I'll help you."

Maka disentangled herself from him, her movements fluid and quick, not a pause in her step as she smiled at him from over her shoulder. He watched her retreating back dazedly, licked his lip when his eyes took in the creamy strip of her smooth thigh. Maybe when this was all done he'd ask her over to a cup of...whatever she liked to drink. But now, he had a task to finish.

* * *

Arachne studied him smugly, smirking as she casually fanned herself. Soul cried out pitifully when her pet kicked him in the stomach, knocking the breath out of his lungs.

"It takes a lot more to kill me, Boy," she said and came to a crouch in front of his prone body. She wrenched his head up by the chin, smiling coldly and just gripped him more tightly. "Others have tried it before you, people who were better than you. But you know, I do not like how you like to kill so many of my people, so I need you to be gone. Do you understand?"

Something had gone horribly wrong. He had stealthily stepped into the corridor Maka had told him to, but they had been waiting for him, not letting him any chance to explain himself. Oh God, where was Maka?! If they had him like this, she had to be in trouble, too. Maybe she had managed to make a quick escape. Or...maybe they had made sure to kill her on the spot. He should have never left her alone. He should have never persuaded her to smuggle him in.

"Where...where is Maka?" he asked, voice strained. Every movement, however slight, hurt. They hadn't wasted any time to display their superior strength, had punched and kicked him, nearly beating him to death before Arachne stopped them.

She looked almost rueful, as if she was genuinely pitying him. "Giriko, take him down. And make sure to chain him up. I don't want to risk him escaping."

Soul inhaled wheezily and almost fell down when she let go of him. His vision blurred, black dots appearing in front him, but before Arachne could leave he gripped the trail of her skirt.

"Where is Maka!" he bit out, sounding stronger than he felt. A searing pain shot up his arms as his fingers clenched in the black fabric.

Instead of Arachne gracing him an answer, Giriko crushed his hand underneath his dirty boot, cackling. "You still don't get it?" he laughed, kicking Soul again. "Why do you think we were already on you? Your precious Maka tipped us off."

"No."

No, no, no. He refused to believe that, refused to accept the possibility that Maka had betrayed him.

"She would never," he mumbled weakly.

"Our Maka is a true information broker through and through. She doesn't discriminate as long as the money is right," Arachne said.

* * *

They had certainly broken some of his bones. He didn't know if his nose was broken, but he was sure that his face had to be littered with some colourful bruises. It hurt to breathe. Maybe he had a few broken ribs as well. His stomach turned when he moved too much, his head spinned whenever he tried to find a comfortable position.

Soul nearly burst out laughing. Finding a comfortable position in this godforsaken ancient dungeon? He was getting delirious. Maybe this was just some shit concocted by his insane brain? A nightmare or something. A hallucination? Anything, but the pain in his body was all too real, but it paled in comparison to the chilling wave of despair that threatened to swallow him whole when he thought of  _her_.

The betrayal hurt more than anything. He had trusted her. Hadn't Wes taught him as early as in his first lesson that trusting a Bloodsucker was always lethal? But he had buried Wes a long time ago, and it wasn't like Soul had anyone left to trust. He thought Maka was different, had believed this since their very first encounter, when she had given a homeless a generous amount of money without an ulterior motive like many others of her kind had whenever they performed an act of kindness. Soul had been intrigued by her in that very moment and he hadn't cared as much about the information he had wanted from her.

Soft, light steps - too light to belong to Giriko - resounded throughout the dungeons; Soul didn't need to guess for long when a pair of familiar legs appeared behind the iron bars. His heart dropped down to his stomach, and he couldn't even muster up an insult or a curse.

"I had to do it, Soul."

He let out a bark of laughter, but it sounded more like he was wheezing like an old man dying of lung cancer. "Oh, really now?" His throat was parched; when was the last time he had been given water? Why hadn't they just killed him already? Did they want to laugh at him, too? See this confrontation unfold to their amusement?

"Yes, really," Maka said, kneeling down as she took the pathetic sight of him in. The great Soul Eater reduced to shivering, bloodied mess.

"I didn't know that….you loved money this much."

"It wasn't about the money. I...I...was tired of being a reject. Neither accepted by vampires, nor by humans." She carefully ran her hand through his hair, but he flinched away with a snarl.

"They killed your family and you want to be accepted by them?! That's rich. I always thought you to be better than the usual lot, but you're just a fucking...Bloodsucker like them."

Her sharp intake of breath was loud and he almost felt bad, but his broken bones and impending death made sure that he didn't give into the feeling.

"Why are you even here, Maka?" he asked tiredly. "So you can feel better about betraying me? Do you feel guilty? Well, you damn well should."

"You've been using me all the time, too, so don't pretend that we have been friends. I owe you nothing!"Soul didn't think he was able to fall further than rock bottom, but here she was twisting a dagger into his heart with her words and soft voice.

"And I am not trying to get back into Arachne's good graces," she spat disdainfully, her eyes narrowing. "I will kill that bitch," her voice dropped down to a faint whisper, and he had to strain his ears to understand her. "But first, she needs to trust me, Soul. Like you trusted me. I wish you were strong enough, I really do, but you are just human. You never stood a chance against her in the first place."

"So you're using me to get your revenge," he stated dully, his body sagging as his strength left him.

"I...I'm sorry." Maka reached out again, her arm sliding in between the bars, to brush blood-soaked bangs out of his eyes. He was too fatigued to fight her, too tired to continue talking. She brushed the back of her hand against his cheek, her fingers trembling. "Arachne placed that bounty onto her head herself. She needed to get your attention, she needed you to attend the ball. I agreed to help her, and I'd be pardoned. My identity as an Albarn would never be held against me again. Do you understand, Soul? I'll kill her when I can, I won't rush into the situation like you did and when I am strong enough, I will kill her." Her hand was so warm and he unconsciously leaned in to her touch. "Your death will not be in vain."

His blood ran cold, his jaw so tense it hurt. He thought he was in a way important to her, he thought she cherished him as a friend at least, but now she admitted to him that he had always been a means to an end. Nothing more, but an expendable life for her own goals. Wes had been right. His brother had always been right, that's why he had always been the better child.

"Soul? Soul, say something, please?" Her pained voice made him growl, made him want to tear his chains apart and wind them around her pretty little neck and strangle her. How dare she be in pain when he was about to be executed soon? How dare this little bitch pity him when she was the very reason he was in this mess?

"I'll say...something alright. I will get out of here, and then I will kill you. I will kill you all." It was a weak threat, but he would fight until the last drop of blood left his body, until he wasn't able to stand anymore, until he had his hands around her neck and watched the life drain out of her pretty green eyes.


	7. Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're the coolest partner ever," he said, earnestly, making her breath hitch in her throat. She could only mumble a similar compliment back, burying her face in the crook of his neck. They lingered in this position for a few moments, arms wrapped around each other intimately. A look at Soul and Maka right after they acquire their 100th soul.

"Serial killer Frey D. Sadoko," Maka said, the shaft of Soul's scythe form resting comfortably on her shoulder as she coldly regarded the pre-kishin. "I'll be taking your soul."

 _"Maka, with this we'll finally…"_  Soul's voice echoed from the blade, making her smile before she charged at the pre-kishin.

"Yeah, with this, our soul count reaches one hundred," she bellowed, parrying the pre-kishin's attack, and ran forward to swing the scythe in a wide arc, slicing Sadoko cleanly in half. Her body disintegrated into nothing, dark shadows moving in sinewy shapes before those vanished, too, leaving only a pulsing soul of red back.

Soul materialized in front of her with a flickering light of blue and took the soul into a loose grasp.

"This is number 100," he said, turning it around in his hand carefully.

"Yessss, now come on. Eat it!" Maka clapped her hands together, her heart beating faster than it had during the fight, her chest nearly bursting in excitement. They did it. Again! Hundred souls. Soul…Soul was going to be a Deathscythe. Finally! "We did it, Soul," she whispered softly, disbelieving yet happy; she hoped dearly that this wasn't another dream.

But Soul's smile was all too real, his lips stretched wide and his eyes were alight with elation. "Yes, yes we did." He laughed, clutching the soul closer as he turned towards her. "Hell yeah, we're awesome. The best team ever!"

Maka wasn't prepared for the arm he slung around her narrow shoulders, nor was she prepared for his joyous laughter, but his enthusiasm just made sure her heart hammered at a dizzying speed as she returned his half-hug.

"You're the coolest partner ever," he said, earnestly, making her breath hitch in her throat. She could only mumble a similar compliment back, burying her face in the crook of his neck. His laughter made his chest rumble, made her shake, made her grin stupidly as embraced him more tightly. They lingered in this position for a few moments, arms wrapped around each other intimately in a hug that had an entirely new feeling to it. Their previous hugs hadn't caused her throat to clog up with emotion, or her fingers to tingle, or her stomach to flutter as if she was floating in a room without gravity.

Maka was the first one to pull back, her mouth still quirked into a smile, and clasped her hands together behind her back as she watched Soul expectantly. "Go ahead."

"Heh, this is gonna be good," he murmured and closed his eyes, face serene and calm. She sucked in a deep breath, looking at him she had never done before whenever he had eaten a soul. She had usually been indifferent to the soul-eating process as long as it just added one more to their total amount of souls. But this was their hundredth! She couldn't possibly miss this moment, nor the moment when he'd finally devour Arachne's soul.

He opened his mouth, his long tongue darting out to savour the first taste, but Soul had never been patient when it came to his meals, so he swallowed the red glowing orb whole in a second, his Adam's apple bobbing. The moment of silence was broken when he cracked one eye open, his face nearly splitting in two because of his ridiculous grin.

Maka could only laugh as she flung herself back into his arms without a care in the world, giggling like a madwoman as she whispered the words  _we did it_  on repeat. Soul's strong arms wrapped around her waist and she shrieked when he decided to spin her around, pressing her tightly against his chest. It occurred to her that they were being more touchy-feely than usual; she could feel the firm muscles of his back under her fingertips, liked how effortlessly he was lifting her up, loved how he chuckled against her ear, carefree and giddy.

She didn't know what possessed her to do it, but it was only natural, nothing felt wrong about it, when she put her hands on his cheeks. Her name was a faint wondrous whisper on his tongue, his eyes wide with surprise as she pulled his face down and aligned their mouths properly, doing what her subconscious had always been trying to tell her.

Soul's lips were soft and warm, if somewhat clumsy as they kissed, but she wasn't any better. She exhaled sharply through her nose, and it took her a split second to realize that her eyes were still open and that she needed to close them. Her senses took in even the smallest details about him: the pleasant weight of his palms on her hips, molding her body against his, the tickling tips of his white fringe against her forehead, and the nervous gulp he made when she unconsciously nibbled on his bottom lip. Whatever he did, her nerve endings were on fire, the sensation of even the smalles of a touch was imprinted on her skin.

They pulled apart after what seemed like hours, and Maka immediately craved his warmth again, but she liked the way he breathed out her name, how it made something flutter in her stomach and made her hands sweaty and her heart leap into her throat.

"We did it," she said, feeling a little foolish, but mostly content. Her cheeks were hot, likely a deep shade of red that rivaled the colour of his eyes, and despite the slight flicker of self-consciousness inside her soul, she was grinning from ear to ear. After a brief moment, which was spent with sizing the other up to see if this was okay, if they were willing to take the leap, she held his hand out to him. It was decided.

She didn't need him to make a grand declaration of love, and he wasn't expecting one from her either. Not yet, and that was okay. Soul took her hand without hesitation, but he surprised her yet again when he unceremoniously tugged her forward, causing her to almost trip over her own feet.

"Soul, what the—mmf─"

Oh, things were certainly going to be interesting if he kept shutting her up by kissing her.


	8. Soccer vs Football

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After graduating high school, Maka and her friends take a trip to Europe; their first stop is London where they meet a British guy named Soul and fifty more soccer—err, football(!) fans, and Black*Star proceeds to do absolutely nothing to make their group likeable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A SoMa Week entry for the theme First I Love You

"Stop calling it soccer, it pissessss me off," Soul, yes, she believed his name to be that, slurred, and punched the table in front of him, his beer clutched in his other hand.

Black*Star cackled dumbly as he thrust his head forward, his face flushed with the alcohol in his blood, "Duuuude, it's soccer to me. Football is something else in America."

Soul gritted his unusually sharp teeth, his grip tightening on his beer glass so much that his knuckles turned white. "That's why you call it 'merican Football, you git. 'cuz it's not real football obviously. What do you even do with your feet in it, huh? Nothin'! Here you play football with your feet, thas why the name makes sense." He crossed his arms over his chest, accidentally spilling some of his beer in the process of detangling his fingers from the handle of the glass.

Black*Star just harrumphed and crossed his arms as well, his eye flickering with challenge. Maka turned her eyes away from them and rubbed her temple. They had been going at their childish banter since the halftime of the match had started. She let her head sag, eying her non-alcoholic beverage tiredly, and groaned.

Maka, Liz, Tsubaki and Black*Star had just graduated high school and had jointly decided to take this Europe trip as their last chance to spend some quality time together before they mostly went their separate ways to different colleges. Their first stop was London and from then on they would travel to France, to Germany, and to Sweden for a few days before they took a ship back to Germany to get to the Czech Republic from there (Maka definitely wanted to see Prague). Their next stops would be Austria and Italy and they'd take the plane from Rome back to New York.

It was their third day (out of five) in London, and she was wasting her precious time in this loud bar with half of her friends beyond the realm of consciousness. What they hadn't known prior to organizing their trip was that it coincided with the FIFA World Cup because it was a thing that was mentioned mostly in passing in the US, but was a big thing in Europe apparently. A very big thing.

Maka had seen grown men being driven to tears when their team was on the verge of losing, she had seen them being driven to tears when their team was winning! And she had seen men getting into disputes about the correct terminology of the sport. Soccer vs Football. Apparently, it was not a smart thing to refer to this sport as soccer here. At best you'd be adamantly corrected, at worst you'd be insulted as a stupid American (but that was really the rarest and worst case, usually coming from extremely drunken people who couldn't tell left from right).

Despite this world cup craze though, their trip had been very enjoyable so far, aside from the fact that she'd much rather be looking at landmarks of the city. They had yet to have a look at the Tower of London! Of course, Maka wasn't stupid and knew that aside from Tsubaki and her, the others didn't really care about the landmarks and other cultural destinations. They would be happy with spending their trip through Europe by hopping from bar to might have as well stayed home in that case. But Maka would have none of that! Consequently she had dragged all of her friends around a tour of the city. Even Black*Star had come after some minutes of bitching; it seemed like they it was really starting to dawn on them how they wouldn't be able to spend time together like this, and nobody wanted to have this trip go with them arguing all the time.

That was why Maka had grudgingly agreed to go to this bar after their trip to Big Ben, the Buckingham Palace and the Globe Theatre. Figures, they'd arrive there just in time for the match of England vs...she had no idea against what team England was playing, only that their opponents had managed to make a goal, much to the detriment of about 99 percent of the attendees, including Soul Evans.

All things considered Maka thought he was an okay guy (with a nice accent to boot), even if she didn't know how he and Black*Star had found each other. Soul had only briefly introduced himself with a wry grin and she had been the one to exchange some pleasantries to which he replied in curt, short answers. Just as Maka had thought she was going to have a deeper conversation with him, his attention had been all but gone and diverted to the large flat screen TV set up specifically for this match of the English soccer team.

As much as it had sucked to have lost the only person who was willing to have a normal conversation with her, it had annoyed her more how he had gotten progressively more obnoxious as the game had gone on with English players getting slower and losing their stamina. She thought he and Black*Star would cool off once half-time came up, but she had no such luck. For a moment, Maka wondered where Liz and Tsubaki had gone to and let gaze slide over the crowd of roaring men in their middle ages only to spot Liz and Tsubaki in the far corner of the bar, sitting at a round table with three other, much younger (than the average age seemed to be in this bar) men.

Maka shook her head, pouting grumpily. Maybe she should order a gin tonic or something. Perhaps that would make this whole ordeal more fun, or at least a little bit more bearable. Just as she was about to tap the bartender, who was engaged in a heated discussion with two other men, on the shoulder, everyone's attention simultaneously turned back to the screen. Someone made a slurred toast and maybe even tacked on a few cuss words against the referee, insulting his mother in a rather tasteless way, but without a doubt, everyone raised their glasses and bottles and cheered as the game commenced. She had to admit, it was kind of nice (minus the random mother insults) even if still didn't understand how they could get worked up over a sport like that.

She allowed herself a smile as, too, watched the screen in mild interest, but she couldn't exactly concentrate on the game what with Black*Star's obnoxious voice blaring in her ear.

"Why did that guy fall over like a little bitch? Get up, you pansy!" he yelled, waving his bottle agitatedly in the air.

Soul growled lowly, his eyes narrowed. "Because he was fouled, you bloody wanker!"

Black*Star let out a bark of laughter, the insult going unheard. "Pfft, what?! He just lightly pushed him! That's a foul? Bwahahaha, no wonder this game never caught on in the US."

Maka winced. That was the exact wrong thing to say.

"Ex-excuse me?! It didn't catch on because you suck at it. That's why you have that baseball and basketball and American football shit going on because you can't play real football."

"Tsk, as if! Your team is sucking really bad right now yo."

Soul brought his fists down on the table, rattling the few glasses that weren't being held by any drinkers and stared at Black*Star with such a murderous, deranged glint in his eyes that Maka nearly jumped out of her stool to drag her childhood friend out of this place.

"It's still better than yours," Soul bit out, his fingers digging into his palms forcefully. "England can take on the US anytime!"

Black*Star raised his chin haughtily, either oblivious or ignorant of the fury that was radiating off in waves from his new drinking buddy. Instead he just grinned that infuriating grin of his, and Maka wouldn't have blamed Soul if he decided to punch Black*Star right then, and said, "The last time England came at the US it didn't end well for you."

Soul blinked, slowly, his alcohol-addled brain trying to catch up with he was just told.

"Black*Star," Maka snapped, putting an appeasing hand on Soul's shoulder. She smiled up at him and hoped it was enough to still the bloodlust in his eyes. "Drop it okay." But Maka knew that Black*Star would never leave anything be, so she just looked back at Soul, her charming smile still in place. "Ignore him," she said, her voice dropping down to a conspiratorial whisper as she leaned in closer. "He has obviously no idea what he's talking about. I wish the English team the best of luck." She didn't really care, but it had the intended effect. Soul's shoulders relaxed as his lips curved into an easy grin.

"Heh, we won't need luck. The team is good enough to win without such a thing as luck," Soul said proudly.

Maka shrugged. "If you say so."

She threw Black*Star one last, reprimanding glance and shook her head, hoping it was enough to dissuade him from starting another fight. At this rate, they'd be bringing him back in a casket, and she really didn't want to explain to Sid and Mira how their son found his untimely end at the hands of hooligans (although deep down she doubted that a bunch of hooligans would be able to bring down Black*Star). With that, the tension in the air deflated somewhat and their attention was back on the screen, making Maka grimace.

She might not have much of a grasp on the rules, but she knew which the English team was and it was pretty clear that they were rather worn out, while the other team members were still quick on their feet. Soul was wrong. The English team needed a lot of luck to win this, but she was sensible enough not to point this out to him. Five minutes later, the other team scored their second goal, and Black*Star rose his feet, beer bottle in hand, and cheered like the idiot he was. Maka groaned into her palms and slapped her forehead right after. A cold shudder went down her spine as the whole bar grew deathly quiet. All eyes were directed at her childhood friend, who didn't let any nervousness slip out. Knowing him, he wasn't the least bit scared that about everyone in the room was ready to murder him for such insolence.

Shit. She had to do something.

"Oooh no, someone fell!" She pointed at the screen, feeling a little bad that was so relieved that someone had indeed fallen to the ground. It had looked really painful. Luckily, this was all what it took to make 50+ people look back at the screen and gasp in shock.

"I can't believe it! That was a bloody foul!"

"The ref is a biased arsehole!"

Maka slumped against the bar and breathed out in relief, shooting Black*Star a glare from the corner of her eyes, who shrugged sheepishly in return, completely unapologetic. Asshole. The people only grew more agitated as the game was coming closer to its end. There was an extended moment of cheering and hugging when the English team scored a goal, and even Maka found the whole thing a little contagious and found herself growing more and more nervous as the seconds ticked by.

It was in the 84th minute when England scored its equalizer and there was no stopping the roaring of the people. They jumped from their seats and hugged each other in joy, screamed in their glee and downed their beer even if they could barely stand on their feet. Even Black*Star had stood up fist-bumping Soul, who was looking very haggard with the top three buttons of his shirt undone and his tie hanging loosely around his neck. His face was a deep red, his fingers were trembling as he muttered under his breath how they still had a chance to win.

His nervousness seemed to catch her as well, and she felt herself holding her breath in the last minutes. Soul cursed under his breath as the referee gave one of the English players a yellow card, and the ball was given to the other team to shoot. He ran his hands through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut and muttered things under his breath Maka couldn't entirely make out. She wasn't sure, but it almost seemed like he was praying. Maka watched the screen in rapt attention, jumping when Soul clutched her elbow and cracked one eye open as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to see the predicament the English team got itself into.

Fortunately, the Czech player (she found that out after she paid attention to the scores at the top of the screen with the helpful abbreviations of the countries) hit the ball at an odd angle and did not manage to get close to scoring a goal. The entire pub seemed to breathe out at the same time as Soul's grip on her elbow grew tighter. The seconds ticked and the referee gave them three minutes of additional time to play. The entire air seemed to be sucked out of the room as everyone's eyes were glued on the TV (and Soul was definitely praying). Maka doubted that the English team could score the goal they needed to win this match, but then one of the small stockier defense players kicked the ball to the centre that wasn't being guarded at all by the other team, and a taller player got the ball in time and he was running at the goal of the other team!

Maka sucked in a deep breath, clutching her hand over her heart. This was getting far too exciting! Oh, the player almost fell, but-oh God, he was going to make it! He kicked the ball forcefully, making it bounce of the left corner of the goalpost only for it to hit the ground and jump back right into the goal, leaving the keeper confused and devastated.

There was a moment of silence, and all hell broke loose as even the announcer on TV couldn't contain his glee´, shouting in a high-pitched voice at the phenomenal goal. If Maka had thought the people had been enthusiastic and happy before, she had seen nothing yet. Bottles and glasses and chairs went flying, tears were streaming down people's faces as they sang and chanted their songs and danced on the tables. She had to laugh at them and even cheered a little bit herself, feeling kind of silly for getting so worked up over the game after all.

She turned to Soul with a small smile playing on her lips only for it to falter when she saw him sitting there unmoving on the stool.

"Congrats, your team won!" she tried and he warily blinked down at her, ruffling his hair. It took him a few seconds of looking around him, and staring back at the TV to affirm that his hopes weren't dashed, but that the English team had won against all odds. He broke out into a goofy grin, his eyes wide and warm and elated as he took her hand in his. He heaved a sigh as his grin became the gentlest of smiles, his eyes considerably droopy (oh yeah, he was very very drunk).

"Um, Soul-"

"I love you," he whispered lovingly and looked her deep in the eyes.

* * *

The next day began for Soul with a pounding headache, with Wes smirking at him as he dragged himself into the kitchen, and with the sudden, crashing painful realization of yesterday's happenings. It wasn't elation he felt, elation the English team had won against the Czech team. It was sheer embarrassment and he felt like drinking again just to forget about what he had told that cute American girl (whose name he had already forgotten, fuck him!). He rubbed his face frantically and groaned into his palm.

He could just hole himself up inside his flat all day and avoid everything because there was no way he was getting over his stupidity in just a week. No, he would carry this scene with him for months, cringe and slap himself whenever he remembered it. However, he had promised the Americans that he'd show them the nicer places of London that weren't festered with tourists and it wouldn't be right to just go back on his word. Urgh, he just hoped that the cute, small blonde didn't mention that he had basically declared his undying love for her. Fuck him, he would never drink this much again, World Cup or not.

Getting ready was a pain, but he had to look at least somewhat presentable. He took a quick shower, put on a casual pair of jeans and a simple shirt and made his way to the hostel he knew all too well.

She (Maka! Maka was her name!) was a fucking saint. She just smiled up at him and made no indication that basically a stranger had told her he loved her. Soul could almost forget the awkwardness because the rest of the group seemed their usual loud and raucous selves, taking pictures of things here and there and laughing at their jokes and making light smalltalk.

It was only when the others went into a cafe and Maka was still taking pictures of the Thames riverbanks that he stayed behind, feeling kind of responsible (what if she got lost!) and also because he really needed to get it out of his system or that moment in the pub would haunt him forever.

"I'm sorry," he said, averting his eyes to the ground.

Maka blinked and before she could say anything further, he quickly added, "I mean because of yesterday and what I said, it was bloody stupid and embarrassing. I'm sorry really."

Much to his surprise there were no scathing words or condescending remarks about how it was about time he apologized, instead she giggled and smiled up at him, her eyes glinting brilliantly in the sunlight.

"No worries," she said, practically beaming, "It was kind of endearing actually, and funny," she laughed.

He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck, as a blush crept up his cheeks. When the fuck was the last time he had been this bashful around a girl? She took a step towards him and rummaged through her small purse, pulling out a pen. He mutely let her take his hand and scribble something onto his palm.

"You know" she began, her eyes downcast, "We're going to be here only for today and tomorrow before we leave for France, and I really would have liked to get to know you better. Alas-" she sighed heavily and looked up again, her eyes sad.

His heart clenched painfully in his chest, but at the same time his stomach fluttered when he had a closer look at the finely curved letters written on his hand. He smiled.

"But you can email me, if that's okay with you," she mumbled shyly, her hands clasped together behind her back. His smile grew even wider. It was a pity that she was leaving so soon, and she lived across the Atlantic, but despite the distance between them, he was not going to say no to her offer.

"Hell yeah-I mean, uh, yes, it's cool."

She muffled her chuckles behind her hand and asked him with that adorable smile of hers if he'd like to lead the way.


	9. Roommates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maka had long ago stopped batting an eye about traipsing around the apartment in flimsy shorts and had stopped reprimanding him when he'd appear at the kitchen table without a shirt on, still half asleep. However, they had still managed to avoid any naked/half-naked confrontations. So far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SoMa Week entry for the theme Roommates.

On a subconscious level Soul had always known that this was bound to happen. Even if he had never wasted one millisecond of a thought on the idea that one day he'd end up seeing his roommate naked (or vice versa), deep down he had always known. In the beginning, they had both been painstakingly careful (hell, they even had made a timetable for when the other would have their shower!); he'd always made sure to get dressed in the bathroom right after his shower to avoid any embarrassing, accidental half-naked run-ins with his meister. But as the weeks became months and the months became years (and he had turned sixteen two weeks ago), they had become increasingly more careless, or as he would like to think, more comfortable around each other.

Maka had long ago stopped batting an eye about traipsing around the apartment in flimsy shorts and had stopped reprimanding him when he'd appear at the kitchen table without a shirt on, still half asleep. It made something in his stomach flutter, not only because his meister in skimpy clothes was one of the highlights of his day, but also because of the fact that she felt this comfortable and relaxed around him.

However, they had still managed to avoid any naked/half-naked confrontations. So far.

It was a dreary Sunday, the sky overcast with a thick layer of grey clouds and the air was rife with humidity. Despite the gloomy sky, it was far from being cold, it was just moist and humid and warm. It was the kind of weather that made his shirt cling uncomfortably to his clammy skin after he made a quick dash to the grocery store before Maka noticed that he had failed to do so five hours ago. Luckily his meister had decided to take a shower and Soul used this opportunity to spare his ears from another boring lecture about responsibility and all that jazz. Nevermind that, more often than not, she was the one who forgot to cook dinner when it was her turn, and lazily ordered take-out instead.

He let out a yawn as he toed his shoes off, eager for a shower himself. Pulling at the collar of his shirt, he grimaced at the stickiness of his skin as he shut the door. The grocery bag crinkled and he couldn't wait to enjoy the ice cream he had ended up buying as well. Soul never got the chance to put the groceries away.

His eye twitched. Right there on the living room couch was his meister, lounging lazily, the dorky but undeniably cool skull-earbuds he had given her as a present blaring out some trance-fusion—no, actually, he was pretty sure that was some Miles Davis she was listening to! Were it any other day and time, Soul would have felt oddly flustered that she was listening to  _his_  kind of music, and perhaps it did make his heart beat faster than usual, but he presumed his increased heart rate had more to do with the fact that Maka wasn't wearing anything else but her underwear right now as lay on her stomach and hummed along the tune (horribly off-key).

She was kicking her legs back and forth, giving him a wonderful view of her amazing thighs and the firm curve of her ass that was hugged beautifully by the plainest (red and white striped) panties he had ever seen. This was better than any wet dream he had ever had. His eyes trailed up the slope of her spine, to the clasp of her bra, to her creamy shoulder blades. Transfixed, he watched as a drop of water fell down the darkened strands of her hair and hit her right between the shoulders and slid down her smooth, soft—oh God, he just wanted to dive right in and lick it off her and let his tongue have its way with her.

Unfortunately, the strangled squeak that came out of his mouth alerted his roommate to his presence, and she pulled one earbud out (and yes, it so was Miles Davis she was listening to, hah!) and craned her neck to look at him from over her shoulder. She appeared to be mildly surprised, but didn't make any attempt to correct her  _inappropriate_  position or to blush and express her mortification. Nope.

Instead, she just smiled that chipper smile of hers. "Hey, Soul!"

"Uh, h-hey?" his voice broke at the end and this was worse than any wet dream he'd ever had because in his dreams he was cool and smooth and he was the one to make her blush and stammer.

"Did you get everything we need?" she asked and heaved herself into a sitting position.

He nodded mutely, trying very hard not to ogle her chest, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on her face as his shoulders tensed as he nearly dropped the grocery bag. Her eyes lit up like two matches in the deepest and coldest night (he tended to get very poetic in his mind lately whenever it concerned Maka) as she unabashedly stood up and stretched her arms languidly over head, letting out a small, and very satisfied moan (holy shit, she never sounded this obscene in his dreams) as she arched her back and her tits—no he did not know what her tits looked like when she arched back because he was absolutely NOT looking at her breasts right now.

He mentally slapped himself and willed his gobsmacked gaze to remain on her face, on the gentle curve of her lips as she stepped closer to him, her body oozing out  _heat_. Not the gross uncomfortable kind of heat he was oozing out, but the crackling kind of warmth that made him nearly combust into a mess of stuttering teenage boy who wanted to worship the ground Maka was walking on because she looked so damn good.

He barely registered her voice when she rummaged through the cheap plastic bag, muttering mostly to herself and humming happily when she saw the family pack of their favourite brand of ice cream. What was going on? Wasn't this supposed to make her act super awkward and immediately avoid him for a few hours as she locked herself in her room and tried not to think about how her weapon had seen her in this sexy—uh, half-naked state?! But no, she may as well have been dressed in full winter-gear, except she wasn't and this might be the worst and best day in his life.

"Let me put these away," she said, and brushed past by him,  _deliberately_. He bit back an unmanly whimper as his fingers itched with the urge to run his hands all over her flawless skin and maybe nip a little at her elegant neck. But his feet remained firmly planted on the spot as he watched Maka prance around the kitchen, one earbud still in her ear as she moved her hips to the music, almost getting the rhythm right.

Was-was she doing this on purpose?! What exactly did she think she'd accomplish with this ...sort of seductive behaviour?

Wait, did she actually want to seduce him? His eyes widened as he ran a hand through his tousled hair and let out a puff of air. Sure their partnership might have been closer than most, but did she really think they could go that far? What did she want him to do? Maybe she was waiting for him to just wrap his arms around his and taste the sweat off her neck. He studied her with narrowed eyes, scrutinizing her every movement before he laughed quietly to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. Yeah, right. As if his meister would ever entertain such thoughts. He scoffed loudly and announced that he was going to take a shower now as he fought off the heavy weight of disappointment across his heart.

As much as he'd have loved to touch Maka, he couldn't imagine the brain damage she would have inflicted upon his poor skull if he had acted on his desire. Luckily, he managed to keep a cool head in the end and didn't do something totally not cool.

Soul didn't bother taking clean clothes with him as he stepped into the bathroom with a towel in hand and shut the door behind him.

* * *

Maka's fingers furiously jumped over the buttons of the telephone as she dialled Tsubaki's number, and pressed it against her ear right after. Her dear friend picked up after the second ring, her voice excited and curious, but before Tsubaki could finish asking her question, Maka cut her off.

"You're wrong," she said dejectedly as she let her head sag with a sigh. "He didn't look at me once! He doesn't like me the way I like him. This was a bad idea from the start. Why did I think listening to Liz about  _love advice_  would be a good idea? I just made a complete fool of myself."

"I doubt that he didn't look at you, Maka," Tsubaki said, trying to appease, but Maka was too disappointed and bitter to let herself be comforted so easily.

She gritted her teeth, nearly crushing the phone in her iron-grip. "He doesn't think I'm desirable at all! He looked only  _once_  at my chest and then he immediately looked only at my face, Tsubaki!"

On the other end of the line, Tsubaki shook her head and facepalmed.


	10. Slice of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short drabbles from Tumblr.

**Drink Me, Version A**

Black*Star was drunk. Though not as drunk as his friends; not that this was a surprise. Being the superior man he was, he was bound to tolerate alcohol better than Soul or Maka, the pussies. Only Liz came close to being a serious competition but she was already passed out somewhere. Oh yeah, she was on the ratty couch, snoring loudly and drooling onto a pillow.

They had all decided to let a little loose and Maka agreed to have them all come over to their apartment. What she hadn't known was that, they'd all bring lots of booze. Being the uptight little bookworm she was, Maka had initially protested vehemently but now she was one of the most shitfaced here. Well, Soul and she were about equally shitfaced, Black*Star would say, relying on his superior skills of perception.

He lazily gulped down the rest of his beer, watching Soul and Maka acting like dumb, giggly teenagers. Well, they actually were teenagers with 16 and 17, though they were never this giggly. Black*Star frowned as Maka unabashedly put her hand on Soul's thigh, making Black*Star turn a curious shade of green as his childhood friend's/sister figure's fingers travelled higher and higher.

Wait, wait, oh─no, she wouldn't! Oh, damn, she totally would!

Black*Star wrenched his eyes away from the mentally scarring sight of Maka cup Soul's junk. Black*Star decided not to flip his shit yet. They were drunk and fooling a little around, nothing big. That and they had known each other for so long, there was nothing wrong with what they were─

Wait, did Maka just moan?!

Taking a shuddery breath, Black*Star reluctantly looked back at them, only to screw his eyes shut.

He really really didn't want to see Soul and Maka suck faces like that ever. He made a clumsy grab for another bottle of beer, haphazardly opening one, not caring what type it was. He grimaced at the taste but he was still far too sober to deal with this kind of shit.

"Like this, Soul? Do you like that?"

"Mmm, Mmaka."

 _Urgh._  He was definitely going to retch. He had already finished a half of the bottle, feeling slowly but surely the alcohol taking its effect on his bloodstream, his cheeks flushing, his mind dazed pleasantly. Ah yes, he'd just drink enough and not realize anything that was going on around him. Well, he was of course the great Black*Star and he could deal with whatever life decided to throw at him, but he'd rather opt to ignore that Soul and Maka might be in the process to get down and dirty on the living room floor right next to him.

"Hah, Soul...yes, please."

What the─

Black*Star stood up immediately, his head spinning and he almost crashed down again. Keeping his eyes closed, he shouted. "Okay, I'm going home! This place is not worthy of my presence anymore. GOOD BYE, PEONS!"

It was as if his sudden exclamation had the effect of sobering everyone up. Soul and Maka stopped their gross heavy petting, Soul having to wrench his hand out of... _urgh_ , noooope.

The two lovebirds just stood up, Maka waved at him with a giggle, muttering a quiet goodbye before Soul dragged her down the hall. Black*Star stayed long enough and watched them retreat into Soul's room to see Maka slap his friend on his ass before the door shut behind them.

Standing there for a few seconds, contemplating his life choices and if perhaps bleach had more promising effects of erasing entire memory sequences from his brain than booze, Black*Star shook his head and grabbed Tsubaki, hauling her tall body over his shoulders, his knees trembling a little. He didn't even look if Kid and the Thompsons were back on their feet too, because he was hearing  _things_  coming from Soul's room, he'd rather not be hearing right now or ever.

* * *

**Amuse Me**

Black*Star, age 7, was a lot of things. He was to surpass the gods and he was immensely strong and would only grow stronger until the universe had no choice but to implode because there was nothing the almighty Black*Star could not handle.

Until the day, Maka started to cry in front of him, which was silly and unrealistic to begin with because as far as he was concerned Maka was one of the boys and boys didn't cry. (He would always insist that on the day she had kicked him between the legs because he had been pulling her pigtails all the time to tease her, had been tears of anger. Sometimes he'd say he got something in his eye.)

Nevertheless, here he was now, the Almighty Black*Star and this girl, Maka, his best friend since he could remember was bawling like a baby. Black*Star wasn't an idiot and he knew he had to do something and cheer his friend up or at least make her stop crying.

So he pulled her pigtail. She rubbed her eyes and stared at him and he almost winced. Her eyes looked like those marbles Sid refused to get him, big and glassy and green. He frowned, clenching his fists at Maka's hiccuping sobs. This wouldn't do! He was destined to surpass the gods!

He poked her in the stomach.

Maka sniffed, blinked owlishly when he poked her again, this time a bit harder. Hah! He won! She would stop crying right now! But then after a few minutes of silence, she gulped and the tears the rolling again.

"Oi, stop crying," he said, desperately trying to sound like the awesome and dignified guy he was.

"You...you're so mean. And stupid!" She looked up and punched him in the stomach with her tiny fist and kicked his shin.

"Hey! What the hell? I'm trying to help you and you just hit me!"

"Help me? You're not helping," she squeaked, hitting him again for good measure. "Mama and papa hate each other. They were arguing and screaming all the time and mama...mama, she said she was sick of papa and that she was going to leave him and never come back."

Her voice cracked and she whimpered, hastily wiping the stubborn tears in her eyes with the back of her sleeve, but new ones only replaced them. In the end, she gave up, sniffing and sobbing, her nose running.

For the first time since he could remember, Black*Star felt helpless. He didn't like this feeling. But whatever he tried made her only cry more. He patted the pocket of his pants.

"Don't leave, okay?" he said.

He didn't wait for her answer and went into the ice cream parlor and bought Maka's favourite ice cream with the money he had secretly put aside so he could get those awesome marbles. He got the family party pack, which was a huge bucket with lots and lots of vanilla and strawberry ice cream. If that didn't cheer Maka up then nothing would.

When he got out Maka seemed to have calmed down a little though she still looked sad and ready to cry again. He thrust the bucket out to her and she cocked her small head to the side questioningly.

"For you," he said. "Now stop crying."

For a moment, Black*Star thought she was going to punch him again but she then she gave him a watery smile and rubbed her eyes free of her tears.

* * *

**Drink Me, Version B**

Soul was a responsible drinker. Usually. He wouldn't allow himself to get so drunk that he'd lose all brain function and end up like one of those gross, hiccuping drunks with slurred speech. Usually.

Soul could not give a shit about that right now. He wanted to drink until his brain stopped working completely. He was still far too sober to deal with this. His cellphone vibrated in his pocket; he patted it momentarily, fully knowing that it was Maka calling him, being her usual worried self. He tried to ignore his phone but then he fished it out only to turn it off completely. He knew there was going to be hell to pay, but that was also something he couldn't give a damn about right now.

He didn't know how much he had had to drink already, he had lost count after his third? Fourth? Fifth? He felt a little dizzy and his skin was warm and clammy, his heart ached, constricting in his chest as he gulped harshly. He ran a hand through his hair, inhaling the fumes of the smokers were leaving behind with each breath he took.

If Wes was here, he'd surely reprimand him and make jokes at his pathetic expense. Soul gritted his teeth. Stupid Wes. He was so perfect, unlike him, the laughing stock of his family. There wasn't anything Wes could do wrong.

Even though he resented his brother, Soul couldn't help but admire him as well, even if he had never properly expressed his admiration towards Wes.

Soul didn't know how much time passed, he spent in this bar wallowing in self-pity but it had to have been long enough to make Maka so worried that she left the apartment to look for him. Much to his shame he didn't even recognize her immediately when she talked to him, looking kind of angry but mostly tired and apprehensive. He had believed she was another chick who wanted to flirt with him. He snapped at her, his speech slurred and incoherent.

"Soul, how much did you have to drink? We need to go home and you still haven't packed your stuff."

He groaned pitifully, banging his head against the counter. He winced. "Leave me alone."

She sighed, putting her hand on his hand, stroking his hair. He wanted to tell her that he was no dog, but at the same time it felt nice, comforting and he could just fall asleep right here.

"I know it's not easy but we have to go home, Soul. The...the funeral is tomorrow. We need to get ready."

He sat up, his vision blurring and he liked to pretend that it wasn't because of the tears that were stinging his eyes, but because of the overabundance of alcohol in his bloodstream. He snarled out another curse and slapped her hand away, but then he realized he hadn't cursed or snarled, but sobbed. He barely registered Maka's arms coming around his shoulders to steady him, helping him to stand on wobbly feet before they slowly managed to get out of the dingy bar.

They didn't make it far. As soon as they were outside, he stumbled against the brick walls of a building, his stomach twisting and churning, and he just wanted to throw up. His breath rushed through his teeth as he wheezed out a weird jumble of apologies and insults. The cold evening air felt harsh against skin, but Maka's hands were warm, and her eyes gentle and big and a little comforting as she embraced him tightly.

"I'm so sorry, Soul."

His own limbs came alive, his arms winding around her slim waist as he cried into her shoulder, his tears hot and lheavy as they were imprinted on his cheeks.

"I was always...such a brat to him," he whispered lowly.

"Soul," Maka began, firmly, pulling slightly away to look him in the eyes sternly. "Don't...don't be like this. Your brother loved you."

"I never told him...I ran away, never talked to him and now...now he's dead."

He couldn't deal with this. His spine tingled at the thought of a funeral tomorrow, of his big brother's. He didn't know how he was going to do this. He couldn't even stand on his feet! He was truly a pathetic loser and wanted to run away again, not face the reality of the situation, the finality of the burial. Maka could only pet his hair and whisper soft nothings into his ear as he freely mourned over the loss of his big brother for the first time since he he had been told the news.

* * *

**Fight Me**

Soul was panting heavily, sweat trickling down the side of his head as he squinted, the hot sun beating down on his tired body. His muscles were aching and his blood boiling not only from the exertion of the sparring match with his partner but also from the unshakable frustration at his own weakness. Maka was smirking, her back hunched a little, her hands raised in front of her, ready for another attack. Only she didn't. attack. She stayed there, watching him with keen, smug eyes. He clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging into the skin of his palms.

"Stop holding back, Maka!" he growled, gritting his teeth. She looked taken aback for a moment and Soul didn't hesitate to use her momentary surprise to make his own attack. He surged forward quickly, his thighs burning and despite his best efforts, Maka was prepared. She blocked his punch and kicked his legs. He tried to make a grab for her in a last ditch effort to steady himself, but he was too late and fell down. Dust rose around him, the sand on the ground dirtying his tattered pants and sticking grossly to his clammy skin. He winced at the pain in his tailbone, looked up only to be blinded by the scorching sun. He blinked and shook his head, only to see his partner standing above him, looking worried.

Soul groaned tiredly and gratefully accepted Maka's hand. It was tempting but he knew it would be a pretty stupid move to take advantage of her concern and try an underhanded trick now. Disappointment burned in his heart as she flopped down next to him, crossing her legs.

"You're getting better and better," she said, rolling her shoulders and smiling up at him.

"Bullshit. I suck at this and you know it," he muttered lowly and ran a hand through his tousled hair. "I know you've been holding back on me. I have no clue how I'm supposed to wield you in weapon form when I can barely land a punch on someone."

Maka snorted as she smacked him on the arm lightly. "Soul," she began, going into lecture mode, making him sigh heavily and roll his eyes, "I have been training at hand to hand combat for years on a regular basis. I am bound to be better than you at it," she said, confident and cheeky. She reached out for him, patting him on the shoulder, before she added, "But I can assure you, you're doing really well. Soon enough you'll be as good as me─"

He cut through her encouraging speech with involuntary chuckles. "I really appreciate you saying it, but lets face it: I will never be able to beat you."

She rolled her eyes and stood up, stretching her arms over her head. She glanced down at him from the corner of her eyes. "Stand up, Soul. Lets continue your training or you'll never shut up about how much─" she let her voice drop some in a poor attempt to imitate him, "─you suck at hand to hand combat."

"Urgh, shuddup. That's easy for you to say. You haven't been the one who got just swung around during battle all those years."

"Well, soon I will be if you just managed to get up and fight me." She shot him a challenging smirk.

"Tsk, fight you? More like get my ass handed to me by you."

"Oh, stop being such a baby, Soul. Get up." She took a few steps away from him and turned around, getting into a fighting stance.

Soul scoffed, sluggishly rising to his feet, grimacing at his muscles protesting with soreness all over.

"And this time," she continued, "I really won't hold back."

"Fuck."

* * *

**Haunt Me**

This was the way it was supposed to be, wasn't it? Soul was a Deathscythe now and he couldn't expect to be wielded by Maka forever. Yet there was still something stirring in his chest that felt like betrayal. He shook his head tiredly, throwing the covers off his body. Istanbul was far too hot in the summer. Sure, he was used to the desert heat of Nevada, but this city was overcrowded by people and cars, the fumes only adding to the temperature.

He wanted to call her but knew she had to be sleeping still. He wondered if it would get easier as time went on. If he could more comfortably let himself be wielded by Kid, the new shinigami. He didn't exactly enjoy resonating with Kid. With Maka it always felt like their souls were...embracing, lulling each other in warmth and strength and reassurance. It was different with Kid, which felt more like his soul was being shoved into a narrow compartment and couldn't leave without Kid letting him out.

Soul heaved a heavy sigh, tapping his fingers impatiently against his knee to a random melody. This sucked. Screw this! He snatched his phone and dialed Maka's number in haste as he almost forgot to dial the area code too. He wasn't actually expecting anyone to pick up; maybe Blair if she worked late again.

"Soul! I wanted to call you too actually but I thought you'd be sleeping," Maka said and Soul could hear the smile in her voice even if she sounded a little tired. It made him feel bad just a little.

And maybe he should have prepared his words a little better because the next that came out of his mouth sounded a little desperate. "I miss you."

He slapped his hand over his mouth as if that would magically put those three syllables back into his big fat mouth. The tenseness in his muscles vanished the moment he could hear her hushed giggles over the phone.

"Maybe I miss you too," she said, making his heart flutter annoyingly in his chest.

"Maybe, huh?"

"Yup!" She laughed and he allowed himself a chuckle as well.

"You're like a freaking ghost, you know that?" He scoffed, lying back down, relaxing against the sheets. "Haunting me to make me wake up at such an ungodly hour so I can call you.

"Don't be an idiot, Soul. You couldn't sleep the whole time, right? I didn't actually wake you up."

His left brow twitched, his voice dry and flat when he said, "Okay. How did you know that? Or were you really haunting me."

Maka just giggled, her laughter filling him with warmth and making his stomach flutter with - he grimaced - butterflies.

* * *

**Zip Me**

Soul and Maka didn't get the chance to go out much, much less during the night. They had a busy life. If they weren't on missions, they had classes to attend and on their rare free days they'd usually opt to laze around the apartment. Not today though. They had decided to eat at this new fancy French restaurant whose name he couldn't pronounce.

They had also decided that this wasn't a date, regardless what their friends were assuming. Sure, they would be spending a lot of money for this night, but why the hell shouldn't they? It wasn't like they couldn't enjoy something fancy and expensive once in awhile.

Soul loosened his tie a little, craning his neck over the backrest of the couch to see if Maka was ready. He frowned.

"Oi, Maka! Hurry up!"

He heard her muffled curses from the bathroom and the thudding noise of something she dropped to the floor. Letting out more curses, he briefly saw her ankles before she vanished into her room in a flash.

"Okay, okay. I'm done, almost- _argh!_  Stupid dress," she squeaked. Soul cocked his head to the side curiously.

"Uh, Maka, do you need help?"

"No, I'm fine. Urgh no, I'm not. A little help would be nice please," she shouted, frustrated.

He leisurely made his way to her room, and knocked on her door that was ajar. His hand automatically went to push it fully open. After years of having to patch each other up after battles that resulted in injuries and tattered clothes, Soul could certainly proclaim that the sight of his scantily clad meister did not affect him in the least.

Or so he thought.

He didn't think he had ever felt the need to...passionately appreciate a bare back. She glanced at him from over her shoulder, brows furrowed.

"Soul, don't stand around like that. Come help me with the dumb zipper."

"Uhh." He shook his head dumbfoundedly, taking a deep breath before he approached her. Without further ado he grasped the zipper and pulled it up, slowly, his eyes drinking in the creamy and soft skin of her back vanishing little by little behind the black satiny fabric of her dress.

His eyes took particular interest in the goosebumps that formed on her upper back. He licked his lips, fingertips grazing softly over her shoulder blades, making her shudder. Yup, just his partner. Nothing more. He caught her gaze in the mirror of her vanity and was surprised to see the green of her eyes so dark, clouded over with...with something. He didn't know what was going on, just that his heart was drumming in his heart furiously, his blood roaring in his ears.

The pale column of her neck looked particularly nice and he wondered what it would feel like to kiss it or maybe to lick it. Would her pulse jump under the attention of his lips? Or would she simply pull out a book from nowhere and break his skull.

"Soul?" she breathed throatily, gulping hard.

"Hmm?"

The dress looked lovely on her, hugging her lithe body, her hair put up to leave her elegant neck and her narrow shoulders bare.

"We're going to be late," she said, though she didn't sound like she cared that much about their possible tardiness at all, but it was still enough to pull him out of his dazed reverie.

"Um, okay. Lets go."


	11. Ezra Fitz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maka Albarn loved teaching in college, especially the advanced classes; even if the students weren't always easy to deal with. And rude like Soul Evans. And undeniably attractive like Soul Evans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Tumblr prompt Ezra Fitz: teacher/student tension.

Maka sipped leisurely at her coffee and sighed before she glanced out of her window longingly. It was such a nice day today; the sun was bright, the sky cloudless. It was the perfect day to be outside and take a stroll in the park, or at least a nice walk on campus. Maybe she would do just that, but only after she was done grading at least one half of these tests from her Advanced Chemistry lab.

Not that she minded though; Maka Albarn loved teaching in college, especially the advanced classes and the students who picked chemical and biomolecular engineering as their major, because she could always be certain of the fact that they were interested in the subject at the very least, and loved it at the very most. It brought her joy to know that she was helping these young people. Granted, they weren't that much younger than she was, but still. It was nice, being a mentor and guiding figure, being relied on, being able to give a helping hand to the undergraduate students.

Perhaps she'd like to acquire her PhD once she was done with her Master's degree and become a professor, or maybe she would go out into the world and work in a field where her degree would be put to practical use.

As much as she loved her job as a teaching assistant in chemical engineering at the DCU - Polytechnical School of Engineering and the nice paycheck that came with it, it also gave her some headaches about the kind of students that were most certainly not looking for a major in the natural sciences. They were the ones that were the most difficult to deal with since they only had to take the course because it was a part of their core curriculum before they could put the ghastly two years of their general education behind them, and actively take courses that they were interested in. She really did not enjoy working with people like that, especially not since graduate school was already so demanding to begin with.

She sighed again, watching the stack of tests in front her blankly. She really, really would like to be outside right now and enjoy some fresh air. Her office was nice and spacious, definitely not stifling, but such a pleasant day just called for a walk outside. Smiling to herself, she placed her empty cup onto her desk and stood up. However, the moment she did so, three insistent knocks on her door made her freeze on the spot, her shoulders sagging as she slumped down onto her seat with a resigned sigh.

"Come in," she said, trying not to sound as lethargic as she felt. The feeling of listlessness only doubled when an annoyingly familiar mop of white hair poked through the crack of the door, red eyes blinking blearily.

"Um, hey, Ms. Albarn," he called out awkwardly, and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Maka fought off the urge to groan. Soul Evans was the last person she wanted to see right now. He was one of those doing-chemistry-because-I-have-to-students. Maka wouldn't have cared much, if he hadn't mouthed off to heron the third day of lab for Stein's Natural Science lecture. Admittedly, she had been very nervous about teaching that lab, since it was the first time for her, and this nervousness had translated into extreme anxiousness and a bit of a clutter during the first few sessions.

It had been disheartening and humiliating to be called incompetent in front of the whole class, and the quiet laughter of a few other students hadn't exactly done her pride any favour either, nor the students who had looked at her with pity. Suffice to say, she and Soul Evans had had a rocky start. He had apologized right after class for what he said, but since that day on something about him had always rubbed her the wrong way.

At first it had been things like how he seemed constantly tired and how he didn't even attempt to hide his rude and loud yawning in class, or how his hair always looked unkempt, or his bloodshot eyes- either a sign that he wasn't getting enough sleep or some other unsavory habits that she wouldn't put past this slacker. Speaking of slacker, he was lazy. His homework, if he did it, was sloppily done, and he never participated actively in class, his grades seemingly unimportant to him.

Needless to say, a lot of things about Evans rubbed her the wrong way. But then there were certain things about him that also rubbed her the right way, even though they should not. Things like how his hair swept over his half-lidded eyes, the strong shape of his jaw, his broad shoulders, and the deep, sultry shade of his red eyes, or the husky dark timbre of his voice. Things she should have never taken note of because she was his teacher!

"What do you want?" she asked, trying for a polite conversational tone, but judging from his slight flinch it came out more snappy than she intended.

Wordlessly, he held out a slightly crumpled sheet of paper towards her. She took it from him with a raised eyebrow. Ah, the lab quiz from last week, the one he had failed because he obviously hadn't studied enough.

"Why are you giving me this?" Maka looked up at him, seeing him shift from foot to foot. He actually looked… nervous? He muttered something under his breath, something she realized after a few seconds was something she was meant to reply to, as he regarded her expectantly.

"Pardon?"

His eyes narrowed into a petulant glare, but he repeated his question nonetheless. "I said, could you look it over again?"

"Huh? Why?"

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, which she had realized was some sort of defense mechanism of his whenever he felt particularly uneasy, and said, "I don't think I should have failed that quiz."

"Ex-excuse me?!" Her eyes widened as she gaped at him, before she managed to gather her wits. "I mean, I can look it over real quick, but I doubt that the result is going to be any different. I'm sorry, Soul."

She wasn't sorry. He really should have studied more. She was not one to hand out good grades like candy.

His glare deepened. "No, I don't want you to look it over 'real quick'. I want you to give it a good look again."

Her eyes skimmed over the page, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. She had marked legitimate mistakes as such, and had given him points for his few right answers. "I don't think that's necessary. I see nothing wrong with how I marked the quiz. And I don't think that-"

"You're biased."

She blinked, processing his words slowly. "What?"

"You're biased, you grade me harder than the others."

She frowned. "And why do you think I would do that?"

"Because I'm an asshole."

"Haah?" Maka could not argue that point, but she hadn't expected to hear it so blatantly and with such frankness.

Soul gave her a flat look. "I'm an asshole, and you don't like me. That's why."

Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to think of the right words to say. Her first instinct was anger, white-hot anger at his implication that she was playing favorites with her students. The next was surprise that he was so frank. Aside from his brusque outburst in the first session, he had always been a rather quiet fellow.

The silence between them stretched on, the seconds ticking by as Soul Evans held her flabbergasted gaze steadily.

"I… I know we had our differences," she began, careful to contain her voice, "-but this is ridiculous. If you think I am still holding your rude behaviour from months ago against you, you're mistaken. Here, take this back." She carelessly thrust her arm out, the quiz dangling from her fingers as he refused it, his eyes gleaming in challenge.

"I just want you to have a look at it again, please. Even if you don't believe me, I studied my ass off for your difficult as fuck quiz, and I think I at least deserve a C."

She hated herself for noticing how his jaw clenched, how the nerves jumped in his forearm as his fingers curled into tight fists. She hated herself for finding this alluring, for noticing it in the first place. His eyes were wild, his lips enticing, and she would like to kiss him- Maka shook her head, wide-eyed and aghast at her thoughts.

"Please, leave," she said, her voice wavering as she placed the quiz on her desk and stood up, her legs shaky. "I will look at it, okay?" She needed him to be gone, away from her vicinity, away and not within a five-mile radius of her, or she would do something stupid and impulsive.

"Hey, hey, hold on!" He looked at her from over his shoulder as she started to push him out of her office, her gaze downcast. "What made you change your mind so suddenly, huh? You didn't stop hating me all of a sudden, did you?" he asked, his tone stuck between joking and serious.

"I don't hate you." Her gaze shot up, green meeting red. Hating him would be much easier than being  _attracted_ to him.

Before she could completely push him out of her office, he turned around fully, his eyes imploring and maybe a little worried. "Is there another reason why you might be grading me more harshly?"

"I am not- _urgh,_ just shut up and-" She swore she wanted to push him out, her hand was even at the doorknob! But he was there, strong and broad and warm and  _handsome_. She stopped, her hand moving from his shoulder down to his chest, her fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt. His eyes were wide, and God, what was she doing? She wasn't seriously contemplating the things that had been carefully buried beneath her sense of propriety and professionalism, was she?

The breath she took when she closed the half-open door again rattled her lungs, and suddenly his hand was on her elbow and she was grasping his jaw and slamming her lips against his. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she savored the texture and taste of his mouth. He let out a breath through his nose, as she pressed more urgently against his chest, relishing in the gasp he released when his back hit the door. This was everything she had fantasized about after that damned heartfelt apology of his after session three. How he had declared that it hadn't been 'cool' of him to say that, how he hoped she would forgive him and that dumb, endearing, boyish smile he'd given her when she assured him that it was alright, and that she couldn't always expect as a teacher that every student would be-

She tore herself away from him, stumbling back against her desk, her hand shooting out at the last moment to steady her. Abject panic spread in her bloodstream once it hit her what she had done. There was no way she could talk herself out of this, there was no way to pass this off as a figment of his imagination. He was decidedly out of breath, his hair more disheveled than usual (had she run her hands through it?), his pupils blown wide. His gaze flitted up and down her body, the question in his eyes clear and pronounced as if he had spoken it aloud. Seconds passed by as both didn't dare to move from their spots. Eventually, the tension in Soul's shoulders vanished, his breathing evened out, which Maka couldn't claim for herself, and he was back to sporting his usual slouch.

No words were exchanged, no apologies, no questions, as he silently left her office, the door shutting behind him with a firm  _click_.

What had she done? Oh God! She buried her face in her palms with a frustrated groan as the dread seeped into her bones. What if he reported her? She would so lose her job! Why had she done that? She had never been this impulsive when it came to the matters of the heart. No, her impulsiveness was strictly limited to her short temper, to maybe hitting people lightly with books when they annoyed her, but never to planting a big one on one of her students. Granted, he couldn't be that much younger than her; she had after all, at 22, only just begun grad school, and from what she had overheard, it was his last semester of general studies. So he had to be about 20, not much younger.

But he was still her student! And she was still his teacher! This was wrong, wrong and unprofessional and stupid of her. How did she even make it this far when was still capable of making such epically moronic decisions? Maybe she should resign voluntarily from her position. At least, that might save her from more-

The door was opened again, and she really didn't need a rude fuck who ignored the proper courtesies of knocking to interrupt her crisis.

"Haven't you heard of knocking-  _Soul_?"

And indeed, it was him. He closed the door absentmindedly. She had no time to question him because she was being backed against the wall. His hands danced along her sides before they settled on her hips, his gaze resolute, his jaw clenched just in the way she liked it.

"I always thought you were hot," he said. All critical thoughts were banished from her brain with those words, and this time it was his lips that descended upon hers. A switch in her was flipped and her arms found lives of their own as they wound around his neck. Her tongue pushed against his mouth, prodding against his and she mewled, enjoying the sensation of kissing this man. They awkwardly stumbled around as their hands roamed and explored.

Her blood was on fire, her skin scorching as his touch left behind goosebumps on her arms. His breath was loud against her ear as he moved his attentions there, his tongue skilled and nimble, and she gasped and writhed, her hand flailing aimlessly around before it took refuge on his butt and pressed their hips together. He groaned against her lips before he kissed her again, his mouth sliding sensuously against hers. His teeth didn't feel as sharp as they always looked, and the careful way he nipped at her bottom lip did all sorts of weird things to her body that left her even more hot and bothered than she was.

Maybe she should take a moment and think this over, especially the revelation that he was as attracted to her as she was to him. Maybe she should also consider the moral complications of hitting second base with her student. Maybe she should, but she didn't, because his butt was nice and firm, oh, and his shirt was coming off. She grinned like a dope when his well-muscled chest was revealed to her foggy green eyes. She licked her lips, her gaze roaming up and down his body before it settled on his crotch and the rather pronounced bulge there. It was kind of ego-boosting to know that he got an erection so fast because of her, and well, she should probably do something about that if she started it…somehow.

She emptied her desk of the stacks of paper and everything else she didn't want to break before she eagerly pushed him on top of it. Kissing him fully on the mouth, she smiled and locked her door first with a satisfying  _click_  this time, and the pulled the curtains over the windows, bathing the office in darkness.

Yes, it was a nice day, a pleasantly sunny day, the perfect day to be outside for a walk, but Maka figured, as she watched him discreetly squirm just waiting for her, it was also the perfect day to fuck this man on her desk.


	12. Abandoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sci fi!AU. Newly promoted Sergeant Maka Albarn had not imagined her first mission from New Earth to go like this. Maybe she should have already known something was amiss when the vessel with the mysterious cargo was called God of Death.

"B-but Sergeant," Tsugumi whispered fearfully, her rifle meek and unassuming in her trembling hands as she pressed closer to the wall. "We are supposed to stay away from the cargo."

Maka threw the scared girl a stern look over her shoulder, green eyes hard like steel. "We were put on this ship to protect it, so whatever it is that has attacked us needs to be dispatched, especially if they're after the cargo." She rubbed the bridge of her nose, clenching her teeth because the attackers could be space pirates, which would be the best case scenario. Sergeant Maka Albarn had experience with that brand of criminal. They were at least human unlike the kishins.

A sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, heavy like hot coal, left her uneasily trotting down the dark hallway of the  _Shinigami_. God of Death. Whoever had decided to name this spaceship was an idiot, or some smartass who thought himself a paragon of ironic cleverness.

It had been an hour since the  _Shinigami_ had stopped responding, nearly all functions on the ship ceasing. But something had been wrong since the beginning of this mission. They were supposed to make sure the cargo made it safely from New Earth to the space colony Grigori, but they had not been told what he cargo was, why it was so important beyond the general implications that it would be a crucial weapon against the kishins. Kishins that swarmed space and arbitrarily attacked New Earth and its neighbouring colonies.

But why the fuck was this ship full with rookies if the cargo was so important? Hell, even Maka herself had been promoted only two months ago. It was as if this mission had been set up to fail since its beginning, since President Medusa had held that little speech in front of them with that slimy smile of hers. If only President Kid hadn't gone missing. Maka had liked him better since his decisions always seemed to make sense to a certain degree.

A bead of sweat rolled down her temple as she gulped, her heart jumping into her throat as another crash resounded. She hissed at Tsugumi to follow her, their steps hasty, their breaths flat and short. Where was everyone else? Where the hell were Anya and Meme? How the fuck had this ship turned into a ghost ship in a matter of minutes? If they were...dead-

"Mak- Sergeant! We-we should go back," Tsugumi whispered, and Maka nearly agreed.

"No, we have to make sure the cargo is safe." Maka pressed on, her eyes widened. The door to the restricted area was... _gone_. Not opened, not destroyed or damaged...but gone! Perhaps they really should head back, but she was a sergeant, damn it! She still had a duty to uphold. Stepping over the threshold to this ominous room that was the centre of numerous ridiculous rumours made her shiver and grip her rifle more firmly.

The sickly green glow from the life-sized capsules to their left and right, illuminated the area just barely. What was inside of them? And... one of them didn't glow? She gasped. It was broken...no. The strong impenetrable glass that was securely shielding the other cargos was gone, just like the door. She shook her head with a frown and turned to Tsugumi. "Private? Radio the Commander, tell him that someone has-"

The breath was knocked out of her lungs as her back hit one of the capsules, something pressing agains her abdomen, her rifle wrenched from her hands. Tsugumi's scream only registered in Maka's ears as a piercing, high-pitched shriek before it was cut of with a disgusting squelching noise, and garbled coughs. The edges of her vision blurred, but the sound reached her ringing ears regardless, enough to make her stomach churn.

"Tsu-tsugumi?" No reply; only heavy raspy breathing, the padding of bare feet across metal as the pressure against her abdomen doubled. She made a grasp for  _the thing_ that was holding her in place, her hand touching something that was...that was a bandage? Stretched long and sturdy over torso and left arm...but no...it lacked the rough texture of a bandage. Skin?

Bile rose in her throat, but then gleaming red eyes were in front of her, the green light of the capsule catching the madness, the raging bloodlust, and giddiness to kill. What...who? Damn it! She made a grasp for the knife that was strapped against her thigh, the blade glinting a sinister green as she slashed against the intruder's neck, deranged pupils widening before he threw his head back and cackled, unaffected by the knife that was stuck in his throat, that wasn't drawing blood, only black, viscous and sticky, closing over the wound and spitting the knife away like a toothpick.

Maka's eyes widened. She was going to die. A pale gnarly hand reached out for her, his black greasy fringe covering those demonic eyes. Why couldn't she move? Why were her legs frozen and heavy like lead, why was her heartbeat slowing, not reacting with thundering fear, the terror that she felt in her veins and marrow. She closed her eyes. What had he-

The pain never came. Fat, droplets of liquid splashed against her face, and her sluggish heart jumped into overdrive. Her eyes wrenched open, her mouth parting in a gasp as the man in front of her released an unholy shriek, along curved blade plunged into his chest. Black blood dribbled out of the wound, pulsating onto its naked skin and the floor, drenching her pants. He bled and bled until his skin became an ashen grey, flabby and wrinkled. The face in front of her twisted and contorted, eyes wide open, pupils blown, cheeks hollowing and hollowing until there was no face anymore.

Maka's stomach lurched as she watched the man in front of her dissolve into nothing but black liquid. She inhaled sharply, through her mouth, the pungent smell of dead skin and coagulated blood assaulting her nose. What was going on?

The-the blade? Where? It had come from behind her. The capsule? She didn't dare to turn around, afraid that the sleek metal might cut into her vulnerable skin. What kind of weapon was that. Who the hell had attacked her...and Tsugumi! Oh God! Carefully, she dislodged herself from the spot, grimacing at the black liquid soaking and weighing her down as she crawled towards the cadet's prone body. Maka bit back a sob. So much blood. Her vision swam, her hands jittery and anxious as she tried to assess the damage, tried to still the blood flow. Tsugumi was still breathing, barely so. If she didn't receive immediate treatment, she-she-

Maka squeezed her eyes shut before she clumsily reached out for her radio, hurriedly whispering where she was, what had happened, she needed help,  _please!_ She had to get out of here because she had no idea what the fuck this cargo was? What kind of freaks this ship was transporting. What-

Her eyes shot up, deliriously fixed on the capsule with the fucking blades. Her breaths rattled her ribcage as she aimlessly made a grab for Tsugumi's discarded rifle. Whatever was inside might have saved her, but she wasn't taking any chances. Maka's fingers nearly slipped as the blades receded back into its confines. Maybe it would just stay where the hell it was.

_Crack._

Oh please, no. With another deafening crack two blades at once sliced through the glass, splitting it open, splinters and little crystalline shards scattering all over the floor. Her fighting instincts kicked back in and the rifle was clutched more resolutely in her hands. Her blood was roaring in her ears, her palms clammy with sweat as she took aim.

A boy stepped out, covered in nothing but his skin and the green substance that had kept him in the capsule. All blood left Maka's face, her cheeks pallid. The blades were protruding from his arms. He had no arms! But then shiny deadly metal morphed into skin and flesh and muscle; he stared down at his newly formed hands, curled his fingers, cracked his knuckles.

Bare feet stepped out of the gooey mess that was the mixture of the black blood and the green essence with a gut-churning squelch. Eyes, red eyes, focused on her almost lazily, his skin tan and healthy, his face youthful, curious, wondering.

"Stay where you are! Or I will shoot!" Maka bellowed, her voice echoing sharply. She prided herself for not letting it waver, even though she felt like pissing her pants right now. "Who are you?"

The boy-the man cocked his head to the side, a gesture so endearingly normal and innocent that she almost lowered her gun. But the adrenaline in her body sharpened her senses, every noise, every little movement of his. He raised his hands, and she flinched, her rifle rising with them.

"My name is…"he began, parting and sealing his lips, cracking the bones in his jaw before he cleared his throat. This time his voice clearer, deeper; so smooth and so very human, but she wouldn't let her guard down again. Maka nervously glanced down at Tsugumi. "My name is Soul."


	13. This is Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maka had been really proud of her Harley Quinn costume and she had to admit his Joker costume was pretty great as well. If only people would stop assuming they were a couple because she had never seen that man before; their matching costumes were really just a coincidence!

"Hey, if you're looking for your boyfriend, he's over there," a blue-haired menace said, with not quite the same well-meaning undertone the ten people who had also pointed to Maka's  _boyfriend_ before him had. He snickered snidely and ran off before Maka could do so much as curse him, his ridiculous star costume shining like an overly flashy discoball in the colourful lights of the dancefloor. She growled into her drink, some artificially dyed toxic green beverage that hadn't made her tipsy enough to deal with this turn of events. Fiercely narrowed eyes glowered into the direction of the man who was responsible for everything. Her glare hardened. The Joker.

Actually, he was only someone who was dressed like the Joker because it was Halloween. She had to give it to him; his costume was nice and, even though he looked appropriately haggard in the long purple coat, purple pants, and green vest, it didn't give the impression that it had been cheap - unlike many other outfits tonight. His hair was green and mussed, his face painted a pallid white, his sockets black, and his mouth a red line that stretched beyond the corners of his lips to his cheeks.

However, despite what many partygoers seemed to believe, he was not Maka's boyfriend. He was the Joker. And she was… Harley Quinn. And she had been so damn proud of her choice of costume! But then _he_  had to derail it! Or… well, he hadn't actually done anything, but it didn't help that even her friends had been teasing her about this wretched coincidence for the whole evening.

" _Why don't you go to your Mistah J before he starts feeling lonely,"_ Liz had said, smirking, while Tsubaki just smiled serenely. Traitors! Both of them. If they had even shown the slightest of signs that they knew the Joker, Maka wouldn't have doubted for a second that her friends had somehow arranged for this. But their group had mostly kept to themselves, and the only interaction she had seen with the Joker's group was when The Star - Maka grimaced - had accidentally stepped onto Tsubaki's fancy peacock tail.

Her black and red harlequin motley was reasonably comfortable, but she kind of regretted going with the high-heeled boots, even if they did make her legs look amazing and brought out their strong shape. Maka had forgone the fitting headpiece because it was far too hot and she had had started to sweat five minutes after she had put it on. Pulling her hair up into pigtails had been the far more sensible choice, especially since it was also Harley's signature style.

"Maka!" Patti's arms wrapped around Maka's shoulders, almost making her drop her drink. "Let's dance. Come on!"

"Wah? Wait! Lemme finish my drink first!" She managed only three small gulps before Patti's impatience won over and Maka was pulled to the dancefloor by a giraffe. The bass of the song had been enhanced by faux werewolf howls and a deep distorted voice laughing like a maniac in the background, but as Maka's feet tried to match the rhythm, she felt her self-consciousness slip away, her blood drumming in her veins, blue and purple lights bathing the dancefloor in an eerie glow that made Liz stare apprehensively towards the exit from beneath the rim of her cowboy hat. Maka smiled at her friend, lips stretched wide and cheeky as she playfully moved her hips against Patti's giraffe hips.

More and more people trickled to the dancefloor, the air getting hot and heavy. Sweat beaded at her temple; hopefully, it wouldn't make her white makeup melt. Maka gulped, grinning when Patti pulled her further away from the crowd, to a tamer corner where they didn't have to fear being accidentally punched by particularly enthusiastic dance moves. Her tousled pigtails whipped from left to right as she swayed her hips to the beat, the mass of werewolves, vampires, witches, and fairies swirling into blacks and blues and reds. A zombie bumped into her, shouting an apology over the drum and bass of the song, and Maka couldn't bring herself to be angry, even if he did nearly make her fall because  _wow_ , that was one nice brain-eater.

As the early night bled into the first hours of the next day and Liz made out with a male Cruella de Vil, Maka's thighs were aching, the collar of her motley making her throat itch. She sat down on one of the vacant plastic chairs and let out a sharp breath, watching the drunken dancers with a weary smile. Gently, she wiped some of the sweat from her forehead, careful not to make her black mask slip. It was only 1 am and she was already ready to go home and crash in her bed, even if the party proved to be entertaining. She bit her lip, shuddering with a grimace when Cruella de Vil - or should it be masculinized to _Cruel_  de Vil? - tilted Liz back and slanted his lips over hers in a passionate tangle of tongues and an overabundance of saliva. There was no way she was going to be able to manage to get Liz to listen to a single word she said. Where were Patti and Tsubaki? She hadn't seen them around since The Star had stolen the mic of from the DJ to declare loudly with slurred sentences that he was A Star before crashing headfirst into the crowd of cheering people.

Maka's brows furrowed. It wasn't far to her place, but she'd loathe to leave her friends-

"Yo." Purple-clad legs blocked her view to the dancefloor and Maka's eyes shot up to meet startlingly red eyes and in a face smeared with paint all over his cheeks. "How is it going...uh, Pooh?"

"Haaah?" She raised her chin before she stood up, fists clenched at her sides. "Who are you calling  _Pooh?"_

The Joker scratched the back of his head, looking decidedly not psychotic or amused. He pressed his lips into a thin line, glaring into the throng of people before looking back at her. "I'm sorry. Man, my friend told me to… to start talking to you, and you know, I thought I'd break the ice by quoting the Joker, but as you can see, that isn't exactly working out for me." He laughed uneasily, his mouth curving into a wry display of sharp jagged teeth.

"But why call me Pooh- oh! Oh! Now I get it!" Maka risked a tentative smile and pulled at the collar of her costume, vaguely recalling the pet names that the Joker and Harley had for each other. "Sorry, I thought you were just being-" she waved her hands around helplessly, "- you know…"

"I know what you mean. And sorry, I really wasn't trying to be creepy… even if it is Halloween." She snorted, pressing her palm against her mouth to stifle her laughter before she couldn't hold it back anymore, and dissolved into giggles. But his stricken face made her feel a little bad. She didn't want to embarrass him! He averted his eyes, his voice dropping to a low rumble when he muttered, "So not cool."

"Ah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh at you."

He gave her a flat look. "Yes, you did."

Maka stared briefly at the ceiling, tapping her finger against her chin. "Yeah, maybe I did a little," she smiled, her cheeks hot, her fingers twitching. "I'm sorry, Mistah J." The Joker blinked, and she was really glad that the white facepaint was concealing her blush.

"So how's your evening going, Harley-girl?" He smiled rakishly, his fake Glasgow grin stretching, and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Just fine, P-puddin'."

His eyes flashed with amusement and he chuckled. "That's my Pooh," he shook his head then, "these pet names really are awful, aren't they?"

"Yeah," she nodded sagely, though she was still smiling, "They really, really are." She eyed him for a moment - she'd been thinking less than kind thoughts about this mystery Joker all night, but he actually seemed to be a decent man. Feeling just a little bad about that, she stuck out her hand and when he looked at it like she'd grown batwings, she offered her name- "Maka."

"What? Are you trying to tell me you're not Dr. Harleen Quinzel?" He mocked a gasp, shaking her hand.

"Nope. Not gonna fall for any insane criminals."

"I'm Soul. Nice to meet you."

"Same."

"Your costume is pretty great by the way."

"Thanks. You look pretty great, too!"

"Heh, I tried." He rubbed the back of his neck, studying the toes of his shoes. "Parties are usually not my thing, but Halloween parties are always kinda different."

She shrugged. "I like parties just fine as long as people behave." At his raised brows, she hastily added, "You know, when they don't act stupid and aggressive because they're drunk and stuff like that."

"I see."

As quickly and awkwardly as their conversation had started, it ended likewise. They stood side by side, fidgeting as he made half-hearted snarky comments about the remaining dancers on the dancefloor who were clearly inebriated by now. They both chuckled when the cape of an impressive Maleficent got stuck around the shoulders of a rather small Frankenstein's Monster. Maka tapped against the backrest of the chair she had been occupying, considering to sit down again; her hands were jittery, and she wanted to take her gloves off. Mistah J- The Joker-  _Soul_ was looking at everything but her. He had an odd way of flirting… if he was even trying to flirt with her. Maybe he had just wanted to compliment her on her costume and leave immediately, but feared that it would be impolite to do so. A nerve in his neck jumped as he gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing.

Maka swallowed her spit, her mouth dry, her tongue thick like cotton as she absentmindedly ran her fingers through one pigtail. Oh, to hell with it!

"Hey, would you like to dance?" she asked, gaze kept carefully low. She felt him shift next to her, his gloved hands clenching and unclenching before he let them drop.

"Uh, I actually don't dance."

Maka's heart fell, disappointment weighing heavily upon her shoulders. There was a sour taste on the tip of her tongue and it felt eerily like resentment. She had been pretty sure that he was trying to flirt. Urgh, she had to get better at reading people, men in Joker costumes in particular.

"But I can make an exception, I guess." Her head snapped up so quickly that for a moment her vision swam with distorted lights from the force of the movement. His lips were curled into a mild smile. Tentatively, Maka allowed herself to relax, tense shoulders sagging. "I mean," he began, taking her hand in a loose grip, making her almost regret that they were both wearing gloves, "Since the Joker and Harley are already both here, we should make the most of it." His voice was low and it almost sounded like he was grumbling, self-conscious as he stiffly looked from left to right when they reached the deserted dancefloor. Perhaps she should just tell him that he didn't have to dance with her if it made him uncomfortable, but before she could open her mouth, with the hazy stares of the partygoers boring into her skull, Soul hesitantly placed his hands on her waist.

Her legs were wobbly and clumsy as she tried to move to the song, a slowed-down remix of an obscure track she had never heard before, but his hands were warm, gaining confidence after a brief moment of misplaced arms and hands. He guided her hips, their movements smooth and a far cry from the playful swaying when she had danced with her friends; there was a certain sensuality to all of it, in the way he clutched her left hip only, on how she brushed her hands against his upper arms, and for the first time since she had put it on, Maka realized just how  _tight_ her costume actually was, hugging her like a second skin and leaving nothing to the imagination like the firm muscle of her legs, the elegant curve from waist to hips and the swell of her small breasts.

The sharp breath she took seared through her lungs when her hands grazed his chest, meeting sturdy muscle that made her toes curl in the confines of her boots. His fingers feathered over the skin of her neck, and her throat parched in a kind of excitement she hadn't felt before - something that had her body strung out, her blood roaring in her ears as her chest fluttered and heat spread in her belly.

The song ended with a final clash of drums and the auto-tuned voice of the singer giggling about something. His hands fell away, and she had no choice but to drop hers as well. She blinked and tilted her head to the side, trying to squint through the red strobe light that seemed to have frozen to point at her face.

"That was-"

"Oh my gosh! I  _have_  to take a picture of you!" Something purple and busty bumped into Soul and grabbed Maka's arm, dragging the Joker and Harley together until their heads collided. Sultry yellow eyes were vibrant with mischief as the woman's lips curved into a cattish smile when she grabbed the gigantic witch hat on her head to keep it in place. "You're such a cute couple! I wish my man would agree to go to parties with matching costumes."

"Uh, we are not-" Maka tried to interject, raising her hand in front of her as she felt that flicker of annoyance flare back to life. Soul was also spluttering some bashful denials, but the witch grinned as the flash of her smartphone blinded them, and took off with a flamboyant wave before they could say anything.

"Well, that was awkward," Soul muttered, scowling.

"Yeah." Maka gritted her teeth, closing her eyes for a brief moment as she forced herself to breathe in and out, in and out. "I mean, it's not like you should ask people if they even want to be photographed."

He snorted as they made their way back to the tables and slumped down onto the cheap plastic chairs. "Everyone has been pretty dumb since they saw you, Harley-girl. They kept coming to me and pointing at you.  _Oh, are you lost? I think your girlfriend is over there_."

"Ah, so they have done the same with you?" She giggled into her palm, the corners of her eyes crinkling at his miffed look. "It was pretty annoying, but you have to admit… it  _is_  a weird coincidence."

"Yeah, and we do look kinda awesome together." He grinned wickedly, the first real smile that really looked like it could belong to the Joker, even if a bit less unhinged.

Maka stretched back on her chair, her cheeks hot to the touch. "I guess so."

The hours passed by as their conversations started to become less awkward and more heated. He argued that Goku from Dragonball Z could take on and -  _the nerve of him_ \- beat Superman in a fight. Or that Bucky Barnes was pretty annoying in the comic books and that the movies did a good job of aging him up instead of keeping him as a useless kid sidekick, with which Maka grudgingly had to agree. She found out that she disagreed with a lot of opinions he seemed to have with everything else in the world of superheroes and supervillains, but couldn't maintain her ire for too long regardless of how snide and pretentious he'd get during particular hot button issues like Peter Parker's divorce from Mary Jane in One More Day. And when she expressed her disdain over the death of Gwen Stacy and how it seemed to have set off an everlasting trend of killing off the heros' girlfriends to add to their  _manpain_ , he agreed with her criticism after she listed many many instances of this occurring in comic book history.

It was only when Maka spotted Patti passed out on one of the chairs in the opposite corner of the hall that she stood up.

"It was really nice talking to you, Soul, but I think I better get me and my friend home."

"Yeah, okay. I can give you a ride if you want."

"No, but thank you." She smiled as she struggled to get Patti to stand and lean against her shoulder. "It's not far to my place. I actually live here on campus."

"Oh, okay then. Here, let me help." He rushed forward, gripping Patti gently by her elbow as her bleary blue eyes dubiously took in the appearance of Soul and then Maka. She opened her mouth, grinning like a hyena as Maka braced herself for one final dirty comment to round up the night, but Patti merely let out a huff and slumped against her, muttering that Liz wasn't going to be back until tomorrow or maybe later, since her sister had apparently taken a liking to the "Dalmatian Killer".

"Did Tsubaki already leave?" Maka asked, grunting when Patti nearly slipped out of her grasp, but Soul steadied her again, and they managed to make it outside without further incidents. The cool, late night/early morning air made her realize just how hot it had been inside, and Maka paused for a moment to enjoy the clear sky.

"Yessh, she said she'd text you."

"Oh, okay."

"So, um, this is where I leave," Soul said, cautiously letting go of Patti's arm to walk to the monstrosity of a bike parked on the sidewalk just beneath the cone of light of the street lamp. "So yeah, this is goodbye I guess."

Maka's heart clenched as she watched him stand by his bike, fiddling with something she couldn't see from this angle. "Y-yeah. It was really nice. I mean, I had a lot of fun!"

"Hey, what about we, uh-" he trailed off uncertainly, his pretty red eyes glinting in the dim light of the street lamp. Maka's head was spinning, not only because she could feel Patti drooling against her shoulder, but- was he going to ask her out? She was  _so_  not prepared for this! Hell, she was just a first year student; she couldn't allow herself to get distracted by dates and boyfriends, no matter how endearing the boy in question seemed to be and… and, "-how about we hang out or something."

She blinked as his face contorted to an expression of utter mortification when it dawned on him how lame of a line that was. Gulping, he hastily continued, his voice stricken, "I mean we don't have to if you don't want to. I just thought that we could… watch Batman or something."

Was his blush actually showing through the white facepaint? Maka squinted, but then realized that he was probably waiting for an answer as he was broiling in his crumbling self-esteem. She pressed her palm against her heart, willing it to calm down as she cleared her clogged up throat.

"Are you asking me out… on a date?"

He groaned and buried his steaming face in his palms, peaking at her through the crack of his fingers. "Yeah, that was the plan."

Despite herself, she snorted before clamping her hand against her mouth. He looked so adorably embarrassed that she felt like she was kicking a puppy. However, there was a fluttery sensation in her stomach, and even though she insisted that she would absolutely not let herself get distracted by a man, he was too  _adorable_. And his taste in comic books was exquisite, not to mention that she hadn't met anyone yet who got as involved in the debates about characterization, plotting and character design as she did. There was still a flicker of doubt within her mind, but her smile came easily, her heart thudding against her ribs.

"Are you free tomorrow?"

He perked up, eyes growing wide as he stumbled a little. "Yeah! I am."

"Okay then. Just a thing though - we're gonna start with the Tim Burton movies, okay?"

Soul nodded eagerly, his mouth curling into a brilliant smile that had her short of breath. Her blush was probably also showing through her makeup by now. As they agreed that it'd be more sensible to watch the movies at his apartment since the dorms on campus really didn't have much room for anything, they exchanged numbers and awkward parting pleasantries. Maka barely registered the weight of the drunken Patti against her shoulder anymore; she watched him sit on his bike, biting back a smile at his clumsy, trembling hands. She couldn't help it.

"What is it, Mistah J? Don't you wanna rev up your Harley?" she murmured coyly, his hands freezing as his spine became rigid. It took her a second too long to realize how  _wrong_ that had sounded. She squeaked, almost letting go of Patti because she couldn't face him right now. "I meant your bike!"

"I- I know that!"

And that was how they parted, and maybe it was a little awkward the next day when they sat on his couch in the living room for their Batman marathon - but in the end, they could both claim it worked out, somehow. If their matching Batman and Catwoman costumes and tightly clasped hands on next year's Halloween were anything to go by, it worked out very well indeed.


	14. Home Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baseball!AU. Soul and Maka are pitchers in opposing teams, but unlike many pitchers before them they end up scoring quite a bit more than usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware of lots of bad baseball metaphors and heavy shameless smut.

The sweltering heat made the sweat bead on Maka's brow. She barely noticed Black*Star's theatrics as it was his turn to bat. He made a few practice swings with the bat, being needlessly forceful when he spat onto the ground and grinned at the pitcher of the opposing team. The mere thought of that man ripped a growl out of Maka's mouth, but she firmly clamped her lips shut. Her teammates were already giving her wary looks, at least Kilik was. Liz, who was sitting to her right, nudged her slyly, shooting her a coy grin as she not so subtly gestured to the pitcher that was the bane of Maka's existence.

"Psst, Maka," Liz hissed loudly, scooting closer and jamming Maka uncomfortably against Kilik, who smiled nervously. "Hey, Evans' ass looks reaaallly─"

"Liz!" Maka said firmly, using her captain voice. "Stop it."

Liz regarded her for a small moment with a frown before she sighed and left her alone. Maka huffed quietly, glaring at the side of Liz's head before she resumed watching Black*Star acting like an idiot. He was like an overexcited monkey with the way he jumped around like a five-year who had been given too much sugar. Yes, exactly like a monkey, a monkey with blue fur.

Black*Star assumed his position in front of the catcher, a small but ferocious girl named Patti, who was also incidentally the younger sister of Liz.

"What's the deal, Evans? What are you waiting for? Scared to eat shit?!" Black*Star shouted, grinning hugely. Evans merely scoffed, juggling the baseball in his ungloved hand. It was then that Maka raised her gaze to look at  _him_. Liz was right. His ass did look magnificent today, but his ass always looked magnificent.

Yes, Maka could attest to it reliably. Her cheeks crawled with heat and it wasn't because of the high temperature on the field. She pressed her thighs together, gulping loudly as she tried to banish the most inappropriate of thoughts from her memory. She had never felt this indifferent to the outcome of a match before, being highly ambitious and competitive, and it made her sick.

Baseball was her favorite recreational activity, a great means to forget the stress of university classes, exams and papers and essays that needed to be written. Once a week her team would practise and sometimes have a match against another team. Evans' team was often opposing them since their university intramural league was small, but that was okay. Playing against another team motivated her friends more to participate in this, even if there wasn't anything to win. They did it for fun anyways, not caring much for prizes or that their teams were mixed-gender,but that didn't mean that Maka didn't absolutely abhor it whenever they lost.

She pulled her cap lower down her head, casting a thin strip of a shadow over her eyes, and she hoped it was enough to conceal her blatant leer at the pitcher. Evans aligned his feet properly, pivoting his right foot while he raised his left leg as he struck out his right hand, gripping the ball tightly, and threw it. The ball spun in the air, Black*Star's lips still pulled into a grin, but then the ball broke from the left to the right, changing its course while it still spun wildly. Before Black*Star noticed what Evans had done, it was already too late.

"Strike!" Pattie shouted and giggled as she caught the ball. Maka sighed, rubbing the back of her hand against her sweaty forehead. Black*Star should know better by now; Evans' move had been far too predictable from her point of view, but Black*Star was inattentive and stupid. Of course, if he ever hit the ball, a home run was nearly guaranteed with how strong and forceful he was as a batter. If only he didn't lack a certain finesse, the watchfulness that made Kilik a better hitter than Black*Star in her eyes.

"You know, it's always the same with you, Star." Evans shot Black*Star a toothy grin. "All bite no bark, but I can't blame you. Not many can resist my screwballs," he laughed, making Black*Star nearly leap at him, but Maka had done enough disciplining to know that her teammate had his insane temper under control by now.

"Fuck you, Evans," he spat, his grip on the bat growing tighter, his knuckles white. The light caught in Evans' eyes, making them glint, and she certainly did not imagine that vibrant burgundy gaze of his catch hers. Her breath caught in her throat, her face burning. She didn't think she could feel any hotter, but then he winked at her before he resumed his generic snark that still made Black*Star's blood boil with rage.

"Urgh." Maka buried her burning face in her clammy hands. He had done it again. Getting her all hot and bothered with just a glance. Fuck.

* * *

" _Look, Albarn, I know you're convinced that my team is cheating, but let me tell you, you're full of shit. Your team just sucks and that's why you lost today. Don't bitch at_ **me**   _because of your shortcomings!"_

_Maka was seething. How dare that bastard accuse her team of sucking?! Her team was fabulous and won every game until his stupid team derailed their streak of wins. Maka refused to accept that a team of cocky, insufferable idiots could best hers fairly! Damn it!_

" _Get back here. Evans!" She stomped after him,. Their teammates had wisely left already, fully aware how heated the arguments between their respective team leaders could get. "My team is the best of the best─"_

" _Apparently still not good enough to win against mine. And would you mind? I want to take a shower." Maka blinked, startled by how much she had lost touch of her surroundings to actually follow him to the locker rooms._

" _Uh..."_

_He raised an eyebrow before he unceremoniously pulled his shirt off. She squeaked loudly, making a half-hearted attempt to cover her eyes, but her body betrayed her and she kept looking back at his finely sculpted chest._

_What had she come here for again? A long, appreciative glance down his torso gave her an answer she refused to approve of, and it was when he flippantly discarded his pants that she felt her body agree wholeheartedly with the idea to jump him. Okay, maybe she had been stealing glances at him once in awhile, but that was most certainly Liz' fault. If her dear friend had never called her attention to his very nice butt in the first place, Maka wouldn't have thought more of Soul Evans other than that he was an arrogant prick._

_Her eyes fell on the devious smirk on his face and Maka willed herself to stop ogling him. "You─" she pointed an accusing finger at him, her voice shrill before she made an attempt to clear her throat and continued, "─you really have no shame! Undressing in front of me like that and─"_

" _Hey, you're the one in my team's locker room. I can undress as much as I want; you, however, are shameless, refusing to give me privacy and then yelling at me even though you could simply turn around or leave altogether if my naked self annoyed you. Then again, it doesn't, right?"_

" _W-what?" She took a few steps back, eyes trained on his face. Her blood was boiling at his taunting grin, but she was Maka Albarn, and she'd rather drop dead than give him the satisfaction of being right, which he wasn't at all. "Don't be so cocky, Evans. You're not that impressive to look at."_

_He stepped closer to her, his grin widening, but Maka refused to leave her spot. She wouldn't budge and give away that his proximity did weird, not necessarily unpleasant things to her body. His abs were right in front of her; she'd just need to raise her hand a little and touch the hard muscle that had been very present in her dreams lately, starring in one of the lead roles together with his hands and tongue and mouth and his-his..._

_Much to her mortification, she gave in to the urge to stroke those firm abs of his. She felt him tense, her mouth parting in a gasp._

" _Not that impressive, huh?" he murmured, eyes heavy-lidded and dark and hazy. She gulped, letting him press her against the lockers behind her, and even though she had given herself away, she refused to give in that easily. She stuck up her nose, chin held high, defiance flashing in her eyes._

" _That look in your eyes," he said, voice thick and strained. He cupped her chin. "It's the same look you have whenever you're on the field, whenever it's your turn to pitch, it's fucking hot─" Maka felt her knees give out a little, her throat parched as he continued "─it makes me want to take you right on the field," he pushed against her, his erection pressing firmly against her stomach. She gasped, her jittery hands finding his shoulders, pressing, marvelling at the muscles there. "But you piss me off so much, Albarn. So. Fucking. Much."_

_She gasped more out of anger than anything this time, and it had nothing to do with the husky timbre his voice had taken on or with the hand that was slowly inching her shirt up. She felt like she was going to combust, her skin was prickling with heat, and even though she should distance herself from him, she was drawn to him, craved him, wanted him._

" _You're so stubborn and arrogant and proud," he hissed, his grip on her jaw tightening, the fingers of his other hand digging into her side. "You're accusing my team of cheating because you can't take losing, and you refuse to listen to reason, and it just makes me want to-want to," he paused, licked his lips as his eyes focused on her mouth._

" _Makes you want to what?" she asked, voice a mere breath._

_Her heartbeats echoed loudly in her ears, she felt everything with a clear intensity, her senses overwhelmed by his presence. He growled and she whimpered, letting him tear her shirt over her head, letting him discard her bra without a care in the world. Her heart fluttered at his momentary hesitation before she unabashedly pushed her hand into his boxers, feeling him pulse, hot and hard, in her palm._

_There was no hesitation after that, no waiting and no dragging it out-this was something that had been long overdue since they'd first laid their eyes upon each other appreciatively. She was already wet, which didn't make any sense at all to her, surprising him when he dragged her pants down and pressed his fingers between her legs only to feel the telltale sign of her arousal._

_She liked his roughness, liked how he touched her, not treating her like a fragile flower. His hands were nimble, strong, palming her tits roughly, fondling her ass, grunting when he pulled her up and they ground against each other. Her panties were torn off without preamble, and he didn't so much thrust as rammed into her, causing her mind to reel because she had never felt something like this before, his hips precise and unrelenting in their pace as his cock inside her made her whine and sob in pleasure, and she encouraged him with shouts and moans, and_ please, he couldn't stop, he felt so good.

_She'd have his touch imprinted on her skin the next day, her thighs sore and her body flaring with the memories of their little tryst in the locker room. His back would be littered with red marks and scratches and his dreams would revolve around the feisty, abrasive blonde in more vivid detail than ever before._

* * *

Black*Star hit the ball on his second try. It swang forth in a mighty arc, whizzing so quickly through the sweltering air that it was nothing more than an indistinct blur. He wasted no time before running; he roared his well-known catchphrase, the shrill  _yahoo_ ringing in Maka's ears, making her wince.

Her teammate was a blue blur on the field, speedily running from base to base, teeth bared in a ridiculous grin before he started to cackle like a moron, throwing his head back. He was almost there, could have scored a run, but he wasn't looking where he went. His feet carried him from base to base like some shakily pre-programmed robot with several glitches in its system, and he ultimately crashed into third base where Tsubaki Nakatsukasa was more focused on trying to get a hold of the ball than paying attention to a blue whirlwind of shouting and sweat. He slid in late feet first and jumped up at the bag, rolling on the floor as Tsubaki hastily caught the ball to tag him with expert ease.

"Black*Star," Maka groaned into her hand, sliding her cap off her head, exasperated, but too indifferent to everything in the moment to get truly enraged. She slithered down the seat, her back arched unhealthily, her butt almost completely off the bench. Kilik and Liz heaved simultaneous sighs, and Maka guessed it wasn't a good day for anyone on her team today.

She squeezed Kilik on the shoulder as he shot her a resigned smile over his shoulder, her mood souring when Black*Star limped loudly back to them, complaining about  _big tits_ that distracted him under his breath. There was no pity in her when she smacked Black*Star on his head, called him stupid, and huffed. The irritation she felt reminded her a lot of her stupid papa and his stupid antics. Even though she loved this game to death - which she grudgingly had to admit was also thanks to her father - it was easy to get her riled up during the game. Her stupid papa and his stupid glory days as a professional pitcher for the Death Scythes, a team she still couldn't stand even to this day regardless of how much of a respectable team they were.

A gleam of red caught her eyes, making her grit her teeth, her lip curling into a snarl at Evans' shit-eating grin that was this time aimed at her. She wanted to rip his head off for being so good, but her stomach did these weird flips that reminded her eerily of her first high school crush that had gone nowhere. Only this time, the thing with Soul Evans had gone somewhere far and beyond and out of her control. She growled under her breath and looked off to the side, arms crossed over her chest.

* * *

" _You're a coward, Evans," Maka snorted, crossing her arms as she turned on her heels to watch his back. He wasn't retreating as she had expected him to do. They had been mutually ignoring each other and wasn't that the most perfect outcome? She didn't want to have an awkward talk with him about what happened last week, but the moment they accidentally passed each other in the hall and he, instead of acknowledging her presence the moment they made eye contact, pulled the front of his cap lower to hide his eyes, made her seethe._

_She knew she was making a grave mistake, she could see it from miles away and she had no right to be angry at him for ignoring her when she had been doing the same thing. However, encountering him by himself erased every intention of hers to disregard this man's presence. It delighted her when he turned around to face her, his lips curled into a sneer, his red eyes fierce._

_He raised his cap, his gaze full of disdain and desire at once. "What the hell are you talking about?"_

_Her core ached with the timbre of his voice, her frame trembling when their secret tryst in the locker room came back to her in full force. She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, and hoped she could display the...the thing in her eyes that got him so worked up. It was a sick game of seduction and she was too drawn to him to question what she was doing._

" _Yes, a coward," she said calmly, though her heart was anything but calm, beating furiously and thudding loudly. "Fucking me like that, and then completely ignoring me. I'd call that cowardly."_

_He growled out her name, irritation laced in each syllable, and maybe they were being even more careless than last time because this time they were in an empty corridor where anyone could just walk in on them._

" _What? You wanna talk about your feelings now?" he spat, clenching his fists. She followed the action faithfully, knowing how his arms would look beneath his shirt, all hard and tense and delicious._

_Her breath caught in her throat and she was momentarily too dumbstruck to shoot back a proper retort. "I don't want to talk with you, Evans. Much less about feelings." She faked a laugh and placed her hands on her hips._

" _Yet you're here, wasting my time."_

_It was a harmless comment, nothing to get riled up over, but lately anything that came out of his mouth had the potential to enrage or arouse or do both to her. She decided she'd go with anger for now. She took a few steps towards him, her blood flaring and roaring in her veins as he approached her too. She licked her lips. This was it._

_His gaze was heavy lidded, a deep hot shade of burgundy that weakened her knees, made her legs quiver. They might have volleyed a few more insults at each other, but it was a blurry affair, and she wasn't entirely sure what was said. What she did know, however, was that they found their way into a locker room again and she was pressed against the lockers. He stripped her out of her shirt and bra even more quickly than last time, his movements hasty and rushed and desperate. He didn't bother taking her pants or panties off this time, he just pulled them down to her ankles, her mouth working on his neck before he kissed and licked his path down her chest, biting on her nipples, dipping his tongue against her navel and getting onto his knees before her._

_She accidentally knocked his baseball cap off his head, her fingers digging into his scalp and tugging at his hair. She liked his hair; it was soft and felt pleasant between her fingers. Soon she was keening and her head banged against the locker behind her as he pleasured her with his tongue. Despite the hurried scramble to get her out of her clothes, he was meticulous with his attention. He rubbed her with his fingers first before he spread her and his licked up her wet slit a few times, drinking her in._

_She was a little worried someone might hear her, her hazy green eyes momentarily glancing at the door that was ajar, but then he thrust a finger inside of her and sucked on her clit and all worries were wiped away from her brain. She remembered coming hard and loudly, her hips bucking against his face and her hand giving one last tug on a fistful of white hair._

_She could feel his smirk against her sensitive folds as his hands steadied her by the hips. She didn't realize how easily she could just tumble down if it weren't for him. She wanted to glare, but only managed a dazed scowl._

_Grabbing the back of her thighs, he hoisted her up and placed her on the narrow bench in the middle of the room. It was slightly uncomfortable, the wood digging between her shoulderblades, but he was huffishly trying to get rid off her pants without bothering to take her shoes and socks off first. It was a little awkward and she giggled at his annoyed expression and the small, pleased smile when he finally took her pants off and threw them away together with her panties._

_He didn't bother to undress, just undid his pants, pulling them down with his boxers and he was hard and ready. She was unbearably wet and hot and twitchy and her legs parted readily as he kneeled on the bench, pulling her thighs towards him, her knees over his shoulders. She felt a foolish how she still had her socks on despite being otherwise fully naked, but he didn't seem to mind as he ran his hand over her socks that were still pulled up to her knees, nipping lightly at the inside of her thigh._

_She didn't think a desperate fuck in the locker rooms could feel so good, but there she was sobbing and begging this man, who was practically still a stranger, to keep going. She needed something to hold on to, but he wasn't close enough and she wanted to scream at him for not taking his shirt off. But that, too, was soon wiped away from her mind and all she could focus on was how tightly he was gripping her thighs, his fingers leaving red marks, or how forcefully he pushed himself inside of her, how he gritted his teeth and how he kissed her knee, how that gentle gesture made her throb painfully._

_She came hard and loudly, more so than during their last romp. The pressure in her belly became unbearable and when he hit a spot within her that made her keen particularly noisily, she found her release, heat sparking up her spine, her arms tingling, her skin a sweaty sensitive mess, her chest heaving with each breath she took._

_Their eyes locked for a moment, sweat beading on his brow as his thrusts became more uncoordinated. Letting out a mewl, Maka raised her hips to meet his, rolling them languidly until his voice became needy, dropping down to the lowest timbres that made her toes curl in her shoes. He came with a grunt and nearly crashed into her, but he caught himself in the last second, still buried deep within her. They remained in that position for a while, their hearts drumming frantically in their chests, their blood still boiling in their veins as they tried to regain a normal breathing pattern._

_No words were exchanged as he slid out of her, making them gasp simultaneously, but Maka made sure to avoid his eyes, made sure to gather her clothes and slip them on after getting cleaned up the best she could. She was grateful for his silence; Soul had kept his teasing remarks at a minimum the last time, too, right after their post-coital bliss had come to an end._

_They were_ Albarn  _and_ Evans  _again, captains and pitchers of their respective teams, not Soul and Maka, who had given in to their passion once more. She didn't say goodbye, neither did he, and Maka swore to herself as she left the building with a deflated slouch to her gait that this was the last time she had sex with Evans._

* * *

She had been lying to herself. She had had sex with Soul- uh, with  _Evans_ -after that several times with no end in sight, and she was at a point where she grudgingly had to admit to herself that she didn't particularly want to stop their semi-regular trysts in the locker rooms. Phrases like  _fraternizing with the enemy_ flitted through her head as she took her position on the pitcher's mound, her shoulder brushing against Soul's as he passed her, his eyes unreadable rather than taunting for once.

Puzzled, Maka bent down and grabbed the rosin bag from behind the mound. She threw the porous bag into the air before she caught it with her ungloved hand, the silky white substance sifting inside, white powder scattering on her palm before she tapped the bag over her wrist and the back of her hand. Fraternizing with the enemy? She snorted. How old was she? Their teams got along well, all things considered. It wasn't unusual for them to go hit the closest bar after a good match; some of the team members had become friends even. Maka would join them only once in a while; college kept her pretty busy.

Their teams weren't enemies, and to insist that she was fraternizing with the enemy by sleeping with Soul was a ridiculous notion. But still, it was just that. She was only sleeping with him. She sighed.

"Yo, Albarn, what's taking you so long?" Soul shouted, sharp teeth bared in a grin, making her eye twitch as she gripped the bag more tightly in her hand. He swung the bat forward as if he were a legitimately good batter as she raised her nose with a scoff. To which he tacked on, "Nervous?"

"Hah! You wish!" She waved the bag in front of her before she threw it into its designated place, eyes narrowed into dangerous green slits. "Need to make sure I have a good grip on the balls," she hissed and bit back a smile at the gobsmacked expression on his face. His Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped before his wide gaze was gone and a look of pure concentration replaced it. His grip on the bat tightened ever so slightly, his lips curving into a faint grin.

"Oh, I think you know how to handle balls alright," he murmured, making her breath hitch and her skin prickle with heat, flushing with mortification.

She growled under her breath, cursed him into the deepest pits of hell, and tried  _not_  to think of all the instances where she handled  _his_ balls. She grasped the ball firmly, her anger simmering just beneath the surface of her calm facade as she struck out, the muscles in her arm tensing as she threw the ball with a burst of white powder. Maka let out a gasp. She hadn't meant to throw it that forcefully. If that ball ever hit him, he-

It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion as the ball spun forward. Her heart leapt into her throat, the unwanted dread pooling in the pit of her stomach. But before it could reach him, Soul had already swung his bat and the ball passed him, caught by a stoic Harvar behind him.

"Strike!"

Maka swallowed the panic down, placed her hands on her hips with a smirk. "Looks like you jerked it too early, Evans." A garbled curse she couldn't decipher came out of his mouth as he glowered at her, fists clenched by his sides, all traces of humour gone from his handsome face. His teeth looked like razors in the glinting sun, sharp and cutting like his tongue.

"I can jerk it just fine. Just haven't needed to in a long while." His eyes were gleaming, blazing red and ready to make her combust as her breath stuttered in her lungs, and her mouth pulling into smile was not planned! She averted her gaze to the ground and hoped her cap would cover enough of her face that he wouldn't see her smile and the bright pink hue spreading over her cheeks. She wanted to rip his face off as much as she wanted to jump him right here. Stupid Soul and his stupid witty remarks. And the stupid blush on her face, and the stupid giddiness that made her heart beat faster. She hated that she  _enjoyed_ this banter, hated how much fun she was having because… because…

"DUUUUUDE, CAN YOU JUST STOP YOUR GROSS FLIRTING. EWWWW."

Maka flinched, her head snapping up to first land on Soul, who looked as surprised and embarrassed as she, and then to Black*Star, whose face was stuck between a shit-eating grin and a grimace. Their teammates were laughing now, some of them louder (Liz and Patti) and some of them more subdued with their amusement (Kilik, Tsubaki) and most of them just looking torn between uncomfortable and ready to burst into laughter.

" _Shut up_ , Black*Star," she hissed lowly, glaring. But she had to have looked about as threatening as a bristling kitten right now. She wanted to slink off and melt into a puddle of nothing. Letting out a groan, she was about to bury her face in her hand before she remembered the white powder clinging to her palm.

Maka cleared her throat and stood straighter, her shoulders squared. "Okay, stop it! I don't want to hear anymore of it. Let's continue."

Even if took a bit longer than she would have liked for the teams to compose themselves again, she felt relief wash over her that the teasing had stopped. She couldn't deal with it right now. Especially not since she had to figure a lot of stuff out herself. So what if Soul and she had worked out a routine without ever talking about it? So what if she always sought him out after each match? So what if he was already waiting for her, not his sweaty gross self, but his freshly showered, handsome and presentable self.

She sniffed and gripped the ball firmly, her thumb and middle finger resting along the seams of it. Lifting her knee, she rotated her hips as she bent her other knee a little and then struck out. Her blood was roaring in her ears as she swung her arm over her shoulder, her palm pointed inward as her wrist snapped towards Soul. The ball was slow, too slow, and spinning forward before it went downward, before reaching home plate. Soul blinked at her, cocking his head dubiously to the side as she gritted her teeth. Damn it. Why was she so scared of hurting him? He could take it if something happened. Not that she ever  _would_  hurt him. She was a damn fine pitcher and knew how to control the balls she threw.

"Come on, Albarn. What was that?" he asked, and for once there was no teasing undertone in his voice. "Don't think so much. Get your head in the game."

It was stupid how encouraging he sounded, as if he wanted her to win. Or was she misjudging him? Maybe he was mocking her again, but her head was so high up in the clouds that she didn't know who was who anymore. There was a quiet murmur of confusion among her teammates, and she could hear Black*Star's obnoxious "What the fuck?" in the background. She paid it no mind because Soul was right. She needed to stop distracting herself.

She kept the ball hidden behind her back this time, shooting him an impish grin as he nervously smirked back before she took a step back and raised her arms. Pivoting her foot, she raised her knee and threw the ball with a relentless sharp snap of her wrist forward. It was nothing but a small white blur as Soul's eyes widened, but then he swung the bat and  _hit_! Her heart was racing as Soul let out an "Oh shit!" as the ball was shooting right at her, a menacing projectile ready to crush her face.

Her body moved before her brain could catch up, her gloved arm shooting out just before the ball could strike her. Everyone seemed to hold their breath before they released it all at once, a shared sigh of relief.

"You… caught that?" Soul asked incredulously.

Maka grinned and, feeling pretty pleased with herself, thrust her arm into the air, the ball embedded in her glove.

* * *

" _I really think you should ask her out, Soul," Tsubaki said, and Maka really had nothing against the girl. In fact, she seemed like a very sweet person with whom Maka would probably get along really well. However, that sweet, gentle girl had the worst of timing!_

_Maka's cheek was pressed against the lockers, Soul's arm wrapped around her naked waist as he craned his neck into the direction of his teammate. The teammate who was standing just outside the changing room, only separated from them by the flimsy door that was ajar. The teammate who had decided to make a bit of small talk, oblivious to the fact that her team captain was very intimately pressed against Maka's back. Maka gulped, partly embarrassed and partly aroused and partly relieved that Tsubaki was a well-mannered girl and did not step inside the room._

" _Ah, I… maybe I will do that," Soul bit out, the puffs of breath hitting Maka's neck as she closed her eyes and let out the quietest of sighs, shifting her hips ever so slightly. He grunted, the tips of his hair tickling her skin, and they really shouldn't be doing this while Tsubaki was standing just outside the room. It was shameless and perverse and indecent, yet he felt so good pressed up against her like that._

" _I'm glad! Because she's a nice girl, and I think she might like you!" Tsubaki continued happily. The scratching noises, the rustling of clothes, coming from outside the locker rooms made Maka's heart slide into her throat, but there were no steps that indicated Tsubaki was coming inside. But moreover, who was this girl Soul was supposed to ask out?! That was the last thing Maka needed to hear!_

_Soul's grip on her hip tightened, his fingers feathering over sensitive skin as he licked up the shell of her ear before he pulled away to address Tsubaki again. "I don't know about nice," Soul said cheekily as his hand made his way down between her legs. Maka gasped, her back ramrod straight as she threw him a wide-eyed incredulous look over her shoulder. Really? Now?_

_He tilted his head to the side, his fingers frozen just before their destination, the question clear in his eyes. She motioned with her head in the vague direction of the door and bit her lip as he shrugged, looking far too innocent for someone who was naked with his boner pressed against the ass of the equally naked girl he was fucking on a regular basis. She should stop this nonsense because this was dangerous, this was just… all kinds of wrong! But as the tips of his fingers twitched against her skin, her core clenching, her wet needy folds sensitive and desperate for attention, the surge of excitement that shot through her veins made her arousal spike, her toes curl._

_Tsubaki was right out there! And she could stumble upon them at any minute. Just one wrong sound and they were done for, and Maka would never be able to look into the girl's face with anything but shame. Yet, the initial wave of panic had calmed into a dull sense of anxiousness, and the mere thought that they could be caught during sex didn't frighten her as much as it thrilled her in an odd, frenzied, perverse way. She let her head hang, her face flushed, but pushed her hips more firmly against his dick. Soul's lips curled into a slow, wide smile, one corner of his mouth pointed higher than the other as his hand glided between her thighs. She bit her lip as his fingers stroked her leisurely, her breaths flat and fast, her hands braced against the brittle lockers in front of her. Liquid heat stirred in her veins, made her heart race as Tsubaki's voice became nothing more than dim meaningless vowels and syllables stitched together._

_Soul shuddered against her when Tsubaki continued, "Maka is a nice girl! And I see the way you look at her all the time. Me and everyone else-" she giggled, "It's actually really cute. You look like such a puppy when you stare at her."_

_Maka froze on the spot, eyes wide in a way that had only marginally to do with Soul's finger that was now buried inside of her._

" _I do not!" he hissed, his finger curling, making her mind go momentarily blank._

" _You do. Everyone can see it."_

_He added another finger, sped his movements up, stoking the fire in her belly as she let out quiet mewl that made Soul curse under his breath and clamp his hand against her mouth._

" _Um, is everything okay, Soul?" Tsubaki asked._

" _Ah, yeah, no worries." Maka's eyebrows were pulled together as his fingers thrust in and out and his thumb clumsily teased her clit. He was the devil. Her hips bucked against his hand; she was burning up! And she couldn't even listen to Tsubaki's words, very very interesting words, because this devil was intent on driving her crazy, making her keen and sob, thinking his hand was enough to muffle her cries of pleasure. He wouldn't give her any rest! Hazily, she craned her neck a little to look at him again, and the daze of lust cleared, made way for a flare of irritation at his self-satisfied smirk as he tried to maintain his conversation with Tsubaki, deflecting all her questions about Maka, changing the topic whenever he could. Oh, so that was his plan? Distract her, so she wouldn't get to hear that he apparently had a very massive crush on her, even though she was standing right there in front of him as his fingers were fucking her?!_

_Two could play this game. Even though the bones in her body seemed to have abandoned all function to keep her upright, Maka managed to detach her hand from the locker and make a blind grasp behind her, her fingers tightening around her prize. The strangled groan he let out, unguarded and loud enough for Tsubaki to hear, made her smile as she stroked him. The position was awkward and uncomfortable to maintain, but if it meant she could tease and torture Soul like he had been her, Maka was ready to accept it._

" _Soul? Are you okay?"_

 _He laughed uneasily, glaring at Maka's smug grin, as he cleared his throat, "Yeah, I…_ shit _\- I, ummmm, just stubbed my toe."_

_The suspicion oozing out of Tsubaki was palpable enough that Maka could nearly taste it, but the girl didn't say anything further about Soul's weird, wavering voice, or the fact that he was taking a lot of time to get dressed._

" _Oh well, I need to go. My brother was going to visit me today. Just think about what I said, okay? Bye, Soul!"_

" _B-bye-" he gasped as Maka changed the splay of her fingers, stroked the underside of his dick in a way that made him grunt and his knees buckle. Tsubaki shouted something else as the sound of her steps receded, and Maka waited for a few seconds, her heart hammering against her ribs, her lungs stuffed, before she gently yanked his hand away from between her legs and guided his shaft inside of her. They shared a sigh when he was sheathed within her, his chin dropping on top her shoulder as he clutched her hips desperately._

_There was no time to waste anymore, the neediness was clawing at her nerves, the arousal in her body unbearable, the tension, the pressure, too much. She let out a muffled sob just as his hand made his way down from her mouth to palm a breast, his fingers tweaking a nipple. Their pace was heady, desperate, fast, his hips slamming against her as she groaned. His cock brushed against a spot that made her keen, her chest heaving as the coiling heat in her stomach boiled over and invaded her veins and limbs._

_Her vision went blank for a moment, her orgasm forceful and intense as he thrust a few more times inside of her before he came, her name a cry of pleasure on the tip of his tongue. They stood there like that for a few minutes as their breathing and heart rates calmed down, and they somehow managed to stand, even though Maka's knees felt like they were stuffed with pudding, her world askew, her legs and arms quivering in the aftermath._

_She opened her eyes - when had she closed them? - and turned around slowly, his arms still around her, glancing up at him meekly as the breath she took rattled her chest. This was the part where she quickly got dressed and left, not the part where he stared at her like an adoring boyfriend. But his eyes were warm and soft, and it made no sense at all. This was another of their quick fucks in the locker rooms and he was just-_

_He leaned down and kissed her on the lips, cradling her chin gently. It wasn't by far the first kiss they'd shared, but it was definitely the first kiss like this. When he pulled away, she was breathless again, and felt exposed in ways she didn't want to._

* * *

Maka sighed as she took her cap off and crushed it in her white-knuckled grip as her teammates were chattering animatedly, but even they weren't their usual excited selves. Their conversations were more subdued, more one-sided and laced with weariness. Once the initial excitement about her catching Soul's ball had died, the rest of the match remained pretty uneventful.

It hadn't been the smoothest of choices to just leave him there after that, but she had felt overwhelmed, unable to articulate what she was feeling. Hell, she didn't even know what she was feeling! She liked having sex with him, but she really didn't know him well enough to say she actually  _liked_ him.

She felt like such a bitch. Or maybe his stupid puppy dog expression when he had timidly apologized to her for that unintended line drive just made her inadvertently feel bad about something she wasn't supposed to. Was he still going to wait for her after the debacle from last time? She took a quick shower, got dressed, and bid her teammates and the girls of the other team goodbye as she slung her bag over her shoulder. Her muscles were weary, but there was nothing like a good workout, even if she had been more busy with her thoughts than the actual game today.

Fishing out her phone when she arrived at the bus stop just a few metres from the small baseball club building, she checked the time and grimaced. Usually, the extra time she had to wait for the bus to take her home was not an issue, since she knew to spend it well… with Soul. Maka clutched the belt of her bag in a firmer grip, her throat constricting with guilt. Maybe she should have said something to Soul. He was probably waiting for her. Damn it. Digging the heel of her hand into her eye socket, she stood up stiffly and turned towards the club building-

-only to see the unmistakable silhouette of Soul jogging towards her, his own massive bag bouncing against his back with each step. Maka clenched her fists as the strap of the bag dug uncomfortably against her neck and she gulped, her nervousness skyrocketing.

"Hey," he gasped as he came to a halt a few paces in front of her, his chest heaving, his hair wet from the shower.

"Hey," she whispered demurely, kicking the dust in front of her.

Soul rubbed the back of his neck before his hands took refuge on the straps of his back, his knuckles white. She almost giggled, but couldn't tell why this amused her so. Maybe she was losing it now; had he actually fucked her brains out? She bit back a strangled laugh.

"You didn't come, so I was wondering where you were, and yeah, Liz told me you would be here…" he trailed off awkwardly.

"Yeah, I just… I don't know." She averted her gaze to their shadows against the grey concrete crossing together. "I hope you weren't waiting for me." He obviously had been! She bit her lip, tempted to smack herself, but remained rooted on the spot.

"Don't worry about it. I just… maybe it was good you didn't come to me today." An icy shudder ran through her veins as she perked up, eyes wide, locking with his conflicted gaze.

"What do you mean?" she breathed as her heart jumped into her throat.

"It's just-" he exhaled sharply, closing his eyes and reopening them before he continued, "it helped me to clear my head a little and sort out my thoughts and-"

"It was a mistake," Maka cut in, voice soft, as her shoulders sagged, not only dragged down by the weight of her bag.

"Huh?"

"Us. It was a mistake, right? That's why you're suddenly so gloomy and somber, because you came to tell me this." What was she saying? And why was she sounding like a sad girl who was being broken up with? They weren't together! And wouldn't this be a neat way to resolve the whole… the whole whatever it was they had going on?

" _A_ mistake, huh? I dunno about that," he said, his grin humourless, "I mean, it's been going on for what? Four months? I actually… I just wanted to say that I don't usually do this. Just sleep with a girl like that."

"What?" Her brows furrowed as she regarded him cautiously, a sinking feeling swirling inside her stomach. He sighed, almost exasperated, and it made her want to sling her bag over her shoulder and smack him in the face.

"I mean without knowing the girl first. I usually date the girls I sleep with, so… uh, yeah."

Maka blinked. He blinked back. The silence that stretched between them made him fidget, rake his fingers through his hair as he gritted his teeth and looked at her like a petulant child.

"It means I want to take you out. On a date."

"O-oh?" Her cheeks were crawling with heat as she swallowed down the jumble of emotions in her throat. Why was she so surprised by this? She shifted on the spot, her fingers clenching and unclenching as she stared to the left. "But why? You barely know me."

"That's why people go out on dates, duh. To get to know each other better," he said, his voice wavering, his eyes flitting back and forth anxiously. "Is that a no?"

Her eyes focused on him once more, the crouched tilt of his shoulders, the nerve that jumped in his throat and the nervousness that flickered in his eyes. The sinking feeling in her stomach vanished as the fluttery sensation of butterflies running amok replaced it, and Maka's face broke out into a beaming smile.

"No-" she shook her head at his crestfallen face, "I mean yes, I mean  _urgh_ , I would like to go on a date with you."

He heaved a heavy sigh, eyes full of relief, as he laughed shakily and grinned from ear to ear.

"Awesome! When do you have time?"

Even though there were still a few lingering doubts, Maka was looking really forward to getting to know him better. It would be a few weeks later when they met for their date, a match between the Death Scythes and the Meisters. They both met in front of the stadium wearing jerseys of the opposing teams, which made them at first burst into a fit of laughter before Maka couldn't help but taunt him about rooting for the Death Scythes, teasing he happily returned. He never failed to laugh at her when the Meisters messed up and the Death Scythes scored.

But all things considered, they made it through the game remaining relatively civil, and Maka agreed to another date. If they could still remain on friendly terms while rooting for opposing teams, they could definitely make this whole dating thing work out.


	15. Marriage Pact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Remember when we were in high school and we swore that if we were still single at 30 we'd marry each other, well hey guess whose birthday it is."

She didn't think it'd ever come up again, yet there he was half-asleep and lost into his drunken haze, his head on her lap as she bemusedly ran her fingers through his wild hair. It had been quite the night, a nice night with all of their friends together again after what felt like so long. Maka smiled to herself as Tsubaki bid her quietly goodbye, dragging Black*Star by his arm whose slurred speech had ceased to make any sense hours ago. The door clicked shut behind them and Soul flinched, his heavy-lidded eyes growing wide as he sat up with a gasp.

"Wha?"

Maka hid a snort behind her hand, her fingers twitching in her lap with the urge to smooth down his unruly bangs that were sticking into all directions like the arms of an octopus.

"Let's get you to bed," she said and stood up, stretching her arms over her head with a pleased sigh before she looked down on him, still sitting deliriously on the couch, and added with an impish smile, "Old Man."

He buried his face in his hands and let out a groan, making her erupt into giggles she didn't bother to hide from him this time. "Shuddup, 'm not old," he rasped, shooting her a pouty glare, and she could only laugh more loudly.

Her hand was in his hair again, tousling it as the affection in her heart flared. "You've reached the golden age of thirty, I think I'm allowed to make fun of you a little," she said, smiling brightly as he crossed his arms over his chest and harrumphed.

"Jus' wait 'cuz next year it's gonna be your turn and I won't shut up about it. Ever."

She rolled her eyes and waved her hand dismissively. "We can talk about that tomorrow. If you still remember your threat, that is."

"I won't forget. And I will- wait!" His head snapped up from its sagged position, eyes startlingly clear as he made a grab for her wrist, his fingers warm against her skin. Perhaps her heart started to beat a little faster at this, but she had drunk some wine tonight, too, however little it had been. "I'm thirty now, right?"

Maka blinked, lips pressed together before she answered, "Yes?"

His mouth twitched and stretched into a grin, eager and boyish, and she probably had had more wine than she thought because her blood was running hot, scalding her veins as she pressed her free hand against her chest and gulped.

"So we're gonna marry now?"

She choked on her spit. "What?!"

"Heh, don't you remember?" He waggled his eyebrows, sharp teeth glinting in the dim light of the reading lamp. "High school? Senior year? Eh?"

Her heart lurched and jumped into her throat. "What? Soul, what are you-"

Senior year? High school? Marriage?

Maka gasped, her muscles deflating as the tension left her body and she allowed herself to laugh again. "Really Soul? You still think of that?" Her cheeks were crawling with heat as Soul's hand fell away from hers with a snap of his wrist.

"Of course, I do," he said petulantly, red eyes trained to the ground. "You don't forget when the girl you have a crush on proposes to you."

"We were seventeen, Soul," she hissed, but her blood was roaring in her ears and her heart sagged a little at his dejected voice. And wait, what? A crush? "Soul, I never knew… you know what? You really need to go to sleep before you say more things you don't mean." She bent down a little, her hands on his shoulders as she helped him to stand, but the moment he leaned against her, she grunted. He might not look like it, but she had seen him shirtless often enough to know he did pack some impressive weight of muscle beneath all those clothes of his.

"I mean it. I thought…" he paused, looked up at the ceiling and licked his lips before he continued, "you were so smart and pretty and you were my friend. Which was totally cool, but  _daaaaamn_."

"Huh?" She really should make him stop talking because he was blathering, talking about things he would never talk about if he were sober and it was  _so wrong_  to let him continue, to take advantage of his inebriation because she was curious… and maybe because… because Soul was-

"And then you ssssuddenly told me that we-" he pointed with his finger between them, smiling gently, "we should get married if we're still single at thirty."

She might have been dead serious about that stupid marriage pact when she had been seventeen years old, but she had been angry and bitter after a disastrous date with some asshole she knew she shouldn't have gone out with. Was Soul expecting her to- to marry him now?

"You didn't mean it?" his voice dropped down to a meek whisper, his white messy fringe hiding his eyes as they stumbled into his room and she made sure his belt and shirt were gone before she tucked him. His eyes had never looked so big and vulnerable as they did now and something unpleasant swirled in her stomach before she heaved a sigh, rubbing her arm.

"That was twelve years ago," she mumbled, averting her eyes. Why was she still bothering to explain. He was drunk! And even if she had kinda liked him a lot back then and maybe still adored him more than a friend should, it didn't mean they should get married.

"But you still asked  _me_."

"Yeah." She looked up and bit her lip, holding his dazed eyes. They had never talked about it, had never broached the topic of how they never dated anyone else, how they had moved together in college and it had somehow remained that way after all those years. "Good night, Soul."

She shut the door behind her, her heart heavy in her chest.

* * *

The next morning she woke up with a mild headache and the memories of a drunken Soul from last night still weighing on her conscience. She took a quick shower, threw on some loose comfortable sweatpants and a tank top before she stepped into the kitchen ready to throw a few eggs together to make an omelette because she didn't really feel like making anything more opulent.

But the table was set; croissants, sliced bread, bacon, cheese and a bottle of orange juice were all arranged neatly in small baskets and plates, two candles in the centre lit. Soul was standing by the fridge, kicking it shut before he noticed her and jumped with a yelp. It would have been hilarious if her throat didn't constrict with dread and her blood didn't freeze in her veins into clumps of ice.

"Soul what's this?" she said, her voice shriller than usual, as she frenziedly pointed at the table.

He put the carton of milk onto the counter, glanced to the side as he rubbed the back of his neck before he looked up, looking decidedly nothing like a man recovering from a hangover.

"I know this is weird. Especially after what we talked about last night," he said, barely meeting her eyes.

Oh, so he did not forget about it.

"Please don't tell me you're going to propose or something," she laughed, panic seizing a hold of her limbs as she refused to move from her spot, ready to bolt.

"No! Look, I was drunk last night and no, I'm not expecting you to marry me just because of some stuff you said in high school, but I thought that maybe- maybe we could give  _us_ a try?"

Maka sucked in a deep breath, her heart hammering against her ribs as she pressed a hand against the doorframe to steady herself. And then in a second, she walked into the kitchen and seated herself at the table.

"Okay," she said calmly, though there was no part of her that actually was calm, and looked into his eyes. Her fingers were a jittery mess as she attempted a display of nonchalance and picked the bottle of orange juice to pour herself some into one of their nicer wine glasses Soul had put on the table. It spilled on the pristine white table cloth, making her cringe and Soul laugh, relief washing over them both as they relaxed.

"Well, that was easier than I thought it would be," he said cheekily, grinning from ear to ear.

Her cheeks were hot, her palms sweaty and her hands clumsy, but there was no way to fight off that big smile from her face because why the hell should they not give a try? It made perfect sense. They knew each other in and out, had lived together for twelve years and were affectionate and cuddly like most couples weren't.

"I thought you'd forget all about it with how drunk you were." She giggled, her chest flaring with excitement as he rubbed his head. "Or at least pretend that you forgot."

"Nah, you tend to get your shit together when you're older and-" he trailed off, eyes widening when he realized what he was saying, but it was too late. Maka smirked.

"So you admit that you're old!"

"Shuddup!"

She laughed quietly despite his glare and the pathetic little kick he gave her under the table.

And that was how they became a couple, though if their friends were asked, Soul and Maka had been pretty much married since freshman year of college. Their first date didn't feel that different from any other of their outings together aside from the kiss he gave her, and well, aside from how they kissed again once they were back home and stripped each other of their fancy clothes before they made a desperate dash to her bedroom.

It would be (of course) in Las Vegas on her 30th birthday a year later when he had his arms wound around her waist that she would ask him. Her head was lazily resting against his chest as they swayed from side to side, her voice drowsy and playful, "You think we should uphold our pact now that I've turned thirty as well?"

Soul gasped and his arms tensed up around her as a shiver ran down her spine. What had she done? Her eyes widened, but then his hands were smoothing down her waist before he raised one up to her face, tilting her chin up.

His eyes were anxious and tender, his lips curled into a happy smile. "Then we should hurry before I turn thirty-one, huh?"

She grinned and put her arms around his neck to bring him down for a kiss.

Two days later, Mr. and Mrs. Evans walked out of a small chapel holding hands.


End file.
